The Serpent Beneath the Flower
by SerBlack
Summary: Sequel to No Rest for the Wicked. With Warfang strengthened by new arrivals from the south, the future of dragonkind after the Human War seems assured. But when reports of unprovoked dragon attacks on human villages reach the Guardians, it threatens to plunge Avalar back into war. Divisions within the city, however, may prove to be an even deadlier threat...
1. Prologue

**A.N: Hi everyone! After a year of silence I'm back with The Serpent Beneath the Flower, a direct sequel to No Rest for the Wicked. :D I suppose I should mention straight off that if you didn't read NRftW, you're gonna have a hard time making heads or tails of this. For those who have read it, brilliant. For those who haven't, I'd ask you to battle through it. xD Without further ado, let's begin...**

**Prologue.**

Tall pine trees shuddered as a gale swept overhead. The wind swept along the dark mountainside, causing a ripple not unlike that of a breeze through a field of wheat. Beneath the canopy below, a small bird looked curiously upwards as the pines creaked. Suddenly, a twigged snapped nearby and the small animal took flight, moments before a hooded figure emerged from the gloom, followed by two more. The bipedal figure halted and held up a hand, causing the two behind to stop immediately. They waited as the leading figure turned his head left and right. After a moment, he dropped his hand again and gave a deep, heavy sigh.

"Nothing," he muttered tiredly. He threw a glance back over his shoulder. "What do you think, Wycleff?"

The second figure stooped low to the ground, squinting in the murky black. He passed a hand over the ground a few times, fingers brushing against the dirt and leaves, but he didn't answer. The other two waited patiently as he went about his task. He stood up abruptly.

"They're still here, Godfrey," Wycleff said in an undertone. "If we push on, I'm sure we'll catch up. The lame one is definitely lagging behind."

Godfrey threw back the hood of his dark cloak and rubbed a gnarled hand across his face. His almost silvery hair stood out starkly against the backdrop of browns and blacks. He trusted the younger man's vision, as his wasn't what it once was, but that didn't mean he trusted his judgement. Godfrey looked to the last of their group. A pair of young and eager eyes met his.

"What about yourself, Alaric?" he murmured softly, even as he predicted the boy's answer. "Should we push on?"

"Definitely. We've come way too far to turn back now!" Alaric said breathlessly. He danced lightly from foot to foot, staving off the increasing cold. A small smile played across Godfrey's mouth at the eagerness of the youth. With another long sigh, he pulled his hood back up and began to pick his way through the trees again.

"Fine. Another five minutes. If we haven't found any by then, we're turning back, first hunt or no."

He could practically hear the young man nodding, and chuckled despite himself. A second later, all their sounds ceased and they continued through the imposing tree-trunks like ghosts. Their eyes roved over the ground in front of them, straining for any sign of their quarry. They had only gone another hundred paces when Godfrey held up a hand again.

"Listen!" he breathed, grinning.

A soft rustling echoed through the woods ahead of them. Stooping double, the trio stalked forward. In a small clearing ahead of them, stopped around a small pool, was a herd of deer. Their backs were turned to the human hunters as they lapped up the cool water. They numbered perhaps twenty, a number of does and a large buck who dominated the group. His magnificent antlered head was clearly visible even in the half-light, but he wasn't who they were after. Moving with exaggerated slowness, the three men made their way around the clearing.

At the other side of the group was a plump doe, standing gingerly upon one leg. With several quick hand signals, Godfrey pointed her out to the others, but the action was unnecessary. Wycleff leaned over and breathed into Alaric's ear. The boy's eyes widened and he looked quickly at Godfrey. Guessing what had been said, Godfrey nodded gently, favouring the lad a quick smile of encouragement.

Alaric reached over his shoulder and noiselessly pulled a yew bow from the quiver, which had been resting across his back. Tradition said that, whenever possible, a boy should be allowed first kill on his first hunt. Godfrey mirrored his movements, taking out his own weapon, a larger and more intricate piece. The two fitted shafts onto their strings, and lined up shots through the gloom. The deer drank on, blissfully unaware of the danger that lay not thirty paces away. Godfrey eyed Alaric's bow out of the corner of his eye. He would not shoot until the boy had loosed his own arrow, as to ensure he had the first kill. Tricky to pull off, but it would be worth it.

Alaric's breathing slowed, and at the end of one methodical breath out, he fired. An instant later, so did Godfrey. The two projectiles whizzed through the clearing, both striking true. The lame doe dropped without a sound as the arrow found its mark. The second deer beside it gave a startled bleat before it too was silenced. The remainder of the herd bolted immediately, crashing through the undergrowth. They were gone within seconds. Alaric shot out of his hiding place to inspect his handiwork.

"I did it!" he whispered gleefully. "First time, too!"

Wycleff stepped in beside him and playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Not bad, kiddo. We'll make a right hunter of you yet."

Godfrey fetched his arrow from the second deer and wiped it clean on the grass before stowing it back in his own quiver. He reached down, slung the dead animal over his shoulders, and straightened up stiffly.

"I'm getting too old for this, you know," he groaned. "Good to know there are good replacements on the way."

Alaric grinned happily, lapping up the praise. He tried to pick up his own deer as the older man had, but stumbled and fell. Wycleff sniggered and took it off him. "Allow me, master hunter."

Alaric blushed, but relented and replaced his own bow on his back. The three began to trek back, watching their footing in the now pitch black. The only sound besides their footsteps was the wind agitating the branches above them, bringing with it the quietest of birdcalls and a faint thumping sound.

"We're not far from the dragon lands, boy," grunted Godfrey, his own deer no easy task. "The great city of Warfang is only thirty or forty leagues south."

The boy's eyes grew wide at the mention of the scaled beasts. "You fought there last year, didn't you, Godfrey?"

The older man gave another grunt of acknowledgement. "Yep, so did Wycleff. Pray to the Gods you never have to face one of those things up close."

"But we're allies now, right?" Alaric said quickly. "Dearg sorted it all out."

"I dunno about 'allies'," Godfrey murmured, "but whatever we are, it's a damn sight better than enemies, I can tell you that."

He shuddered involuntarily as the memory of rows of armoured dragons flying towards him resurfaced in his mind. He could hear the thumping sound of their wings as they approached in glorious unison, louder than usual.

A minute later, they passed under the last of the trees and came out at the edge of a grassy plain. The glow of a camp could be seen faintly in the distance, eagerly awaiting some food. It was good to be out from under those oppressive pines.

Alaric, too, seemed bolstered to be out of the forest, his voice rising. "Maybe. You took one down yourself though, right? They can't be _that_ dangerous, then!" He sniggered at his own joke.

Suddenly Godfrey's mind was assaulted by a fresh wave of memories, and he saw an old dragon impaled on the end of his pike. The man beside him roared in triumph as the great beast slumped over the end of Godfrey's weapon, but Godfrey felt no pride for having killed it. The thumping grew louder in his head at the recollection. He spun to face Alaric.

"Don't joke about things like that!" he snapped. "You weren't there, _boy_, so don't talk about what you don't understand!"

Alaric recoiled sharply at the rebuke and his head dropped quickly. "Sorry, sir."

Godfrey immediately felt his anger drain away. He sighed again. "No, I'm sorry, it's just—"

He stopped suddenly. The thumping noise was still there, and it had gotten very loud. Wycleff's eyes fixed on something over his shoulder, his mouth working wordlessly. Acting on an old instinct, Godfrey threw himself to the ground, the deer falling heavily from his shoulders. In front of him, Wycleff did the same, but Alaric stood stock-still, peering into the night sky, his eyes widening as he saw what approached. Godfrey didn't have time to speak before the boy simply vanished from in front of him with a strangled yell. A great gust of wind flattened the two remaining men to the ground. All they heard was a low, guttural snarl before it too vanished.

Godfrey pushed himself painfully up from the ground. Wycleff was already on his feet, gazing desperately into the dark towards the fading noise.

"ALARIC!" he screamed. "ALARIC!"

Godfrey slowly picked up the boy's bow from where it had fallen. The beautiful yew weapon was snapped like a twig. His hands trembled too much to maintain a hold on the splintered wood, and the pieces dropped jerkily to the ground.

"What happened?" gasped Wycleff, shaking the older man roughly. The youth's face was deathly pale. "What in the name of the Gods was that!?"

Godfrey felt his legs go weak, and the aged hunter fell against his companion. He knew the answer, but he was afraid to speak it aloud.

"A…a dragon."

**Major thanks once again to RiverStyxx, reprising her unsavoury role as my beta. Thanks to everyone else who has waited patiently for me to get off my behind and write anything. I can't promise this story will update as frequently as NRftW did, but I'll do my living best. Please review, and I'll be back with the first real chapter in a few days' time. Any other questions or queries whatsoever, PM me. :)**

**Slán~**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! I'm back with the first real chapter this week. Sorry for the delay, I meant to release this somewhat sooner to make up for the paltry size of the prologue, but between work and BUCKcon it all got put off until tonight. :/ Sorry about that. **

**I also owe you guys a huge thank you for the response to last week's chapter! :D I didn't expect half the flood of support and follows I received, and it got me through a pretty difficult week, truth be told. Almost as difficult as reading No Rest for the Wicked must be for new readers here. xD**

**At any rate, thanks again, and I hope you all enjoy this as much!**

**Chapter 1. **

The clay paving stones were chill beneath Spyro's paws as he wove through the milling crowd. There was a brisk aspect to the air that made it clear the winter months were fast approaching. The many moles scampering between the larger dragons were kitted out in a multitude of mismatched hats, scarves and gloves to keep their small bodies warm. Dragons did not feel the cold as acutely as the little creatures and so went without, but the temperature was still felt. Only the occasional ice dragon skipped by contentedly, unworried by the change.

Spyro's familiarity with the ice element put him in this category, but he felt Cynder shiver as she walked alongside him. He wrapped his wing over her back and she gave him a quick smile of gratitude. They were in no real hurry, and were happy to follow the rest of the crowd travelling towards the southern part of the city. Although it was still quite early, the crowd swelled quickly as they got nearer, and they soon found themselves almost boxed-in in the narrow street. Spyro gave Cynder a little nudge.

"We better get airborne if we're going to get there through this."

Cynder groaned. "Why are we even going to this? We could still be in bed. Why did Sparx get to escape this?"

"Still in bed."

"Figures." She unwillingly removed herself from beneath Spyro's wing and stiffly jumped into the air. A dart of pain shot through her abdomen and she grunted softly. It didn't go unnoticed, however.

"Still hurting you?" Spyro said worriedly as he joined her in the air. She glanced down at the scar on her stomach, a lighter shade of pink against the scales. She shook her head.

"Not really, just a twinge. It's much better, really."

He didn't look convinced, but let it slide. He slowed down slightly, though, which she was thankful for. Ahead of them, the crowd was congregating in a small plaza and on the surrounding buildings. There was a small temporary platform, and on it were the familiar shapes of the Guardians along with two other dragons. Terrador and Fernus were having a quiet discussion by themselves, while Volteer rubbed at his eyes and muttered something to Cyril. The ice dragon gave him a haughty look, before returning to what looked like a speech in his paw.

"Some things never change." Cynder grinned at the bickering pair. "I suppose it was Cyril's idea to have this so early?"

"Probably," said Spyro ruefully. "He doesn't need sleep, anyway."

Cynder smirked. "I don't think I've ever seen him sleep. He probably just sits in his room all night looking up new words for 'stupid' that he can call Volteer."

Spyro laughed at the thought. It seemed like something the stuffy Guardian would do. As they alighted on a building overlooking the plaza, he took the chance to inspect the two other dragons. One was male and the other female, tall and proud-looking. The male was an ice dragon with an even stiffer posture than Cyril, if that was possible. His eyes swept over the crowd methodically, before suddenly jumping up to meet Spyro's own. He nodded politely without smiling, and then resumed his inspection of the assembled.

The female was a dark shade of red, almost burgundy in colour. To the untrained eye she would appear a fire dragon, but he knew thanks to Cynder that Fear was in fact her element. She didn't look like the kind to strike fear, however. She was quite beautiful, with a regal demeanour about her. She looked slightly disinterested in the proceedings. Spyro had seen the two of them around recently, mostly with the Guardians, but had not spoken to them. In the months since the Second Battle of Warfang, he and Cynder had had little to do with the Guardians except for classes. Being able to enjoy a relatively normal life for the first time suited the two of them, especially in the company of each other and their friends.

The dragons in question were on a rooftop across from them and hadn't spotted them yet. Levina and Ember were playing with a small number of little hatchlings who were jumping up and down on a red lump he assumed to be Flame. Despite Cynder's grumblings at having to move again, they glided over to where their friends were. Ember gave a cheery wave as they approached.

"You know who these two are?" she whispered to the excitable hatchlings, who stopped their assault of Flame to listen. "They're Spyro and Cynder, the two heroes!"

"_Whoa…_" the little ones crowed, ignoring the sleeping Flame and scampering over to the two. Spyro reddened at the attention, and Cynder couldn't help but laugh at the tiny dragons gambolling over his paws and up his back. He laughed himself, and knelt down closer to the ground in case one of them fell off his head, where they were now perched.

"This is too cute." Cynder grinned as Spyro was lost beneath a wave of baby dragons. There had been several clutches of eggs laid immediately after the war, and these hatchlings were the products of them. She stood carefully as several of them ran up her own back and perched between her wings. Then one began hanging from the choker around her neck. Cynder gasped, and Levina quickly stepped in and plucked the offender away.

"Ah-ah-ah, Ellecta, don't do that! You'll hurt her," Levina admonished softly. "It's about time we got you back to your parents, anyway."

Ignoring the groan from the hatchlings, Levina swept up the group that were using Spyro as a cushion and glided them down to the street below where their parents were. After accepting a quick nod of thanks for looking after them, she leapt back up, where Spyro was dusting himself off.

"I don't know if I could do that all day," he chuckled to Levina and Ember. "You two are really good to babysit them so much."

"Oh, we don't mind," said Levina. "They're actually really easy to look after and—"

"What do you mean, Spyro?" said Flame, suddenly awake. "You're great with kids. Cynder should just leave all that type of thing to you when you have…however many you're planning on."

He rolled back over to avoid a half-hearted kick directed at him by Cynder. She didn't bother trying again.

"It's too early to bother beating you up," she muttered. "I'll try again later."

Ember's glare of disdain could have rivalled Cyril's finest. "You've been waiting for a chance to make a joke like that all morning, haven't you?"

"Yep", Flame grinned. "Worth it, too."

Ember just sighed again before giving him a dig in the ribs. Cyril had called for attention from the platform, and the five of them hunkered down to listen to his speech in relative comfort.

"Attention! Attention, everyone!" Cyril called. "We have gathered you here today so that you may bear witness to the re-opening of the final residential district of Warfang, which has been closed since the war began, so long ago."

He waved a paw to the pair of dragons sharing the podium with him. "The battle we fought against the humans had a disproportionate toll on our population, and many of us feared the worst. We were strengthened by the return of further dragons from hiding, but it was the return of our long forgotten southern tribes that finally bolstered our numbers enough that we need not worry for our race. The final residential district has been opened so that all may live in comfort, and I speak from the bottom of my heart when I say it is so good to see the streets of Warfang alive again."

Loud applause rang across the square, particularly from the southern dragons, who were recognisable from their sun-bleached scales. Cyril spoke out again and they quieted.

"It is my honour, therefore, to present to you Cyrus and Isis, representatives of the southern tribes!"

With this, he stood back and the two dragons walked up to take centre stage. The citizens crowding the plaza leaned forward expectantly, as did Spyro and the others on the roof. None of them had heard these two speak before.

"Thank you, gracious Cyril," said Cyrus, his head dipping towards his fellow ice dragon. "Fellow southerners, you all know the hardship we have faced since we fled from Malefor's terror so many years ago. The southern lands are harsh and unforgiving; I myself found it to be a most difficult life. But I had become accustomed to our way of life, so when I heard of the tyrant's downfall, I could scarcely believe it."

Isis chose this moment to pick up the narrative. Her smooth voice rang clearly through the square. "We were shocked when we arrived back to a city clearly ravaged by war, the returning party almost outnumbering the inhabitants of the city themselves. However, thanks to the open paws of Warfang and our own toil, we have transformed this city into one where we all can exist happily."

Cynder raised an eyeridge as further applause erupted beneath them. "Quite the claim."

"It's true, though," Spyro acknowledged. "I don't know about those two themselves, but without the southerners' help, we'd be in a lot of trouble, not least population-wise."

Cyrus continued, "In light of the help we have rendered, we are taking this opportunity to ask of the Guardians a role in the governance of the city. We feel that due to the contributions we have made—"

"But now is not the time for such discussions!" interjected Cyril hurriedly. Cyrus gave him an offended look at having been cut off in such a manner. Spyro fancied the glare Isis gave him was almost worse.

"With the ceremony over, we would ask you all return to your business." Terrador's booming baritone echoed around the square.

The crowd dispersed gradually. From their rooftop vantage point, Spyro and Cynder could see the Guardians converge on Cyrus and Isis. The discussion looked heated. After a moment, Fernus seemed to suggest something, gesturing in the direction of the Temple, and the two southerners grudgingly nodded. The group set off in that direction.

Cynder nudged Spyro lightly. "Feel like taking a look? That didn't look too 'happy' to me. What do you guys think?" she directed the last part towards Flame, Ember and Levina.

"Nah," said Ember. "We'll head over to the park or something, if I can get this lazy sod to move himself." She punctuated the last part with another jab into Flame's side. It seemed to work, and he got sluggishly to his feet.

"What about you, Levi?" he asked. Levina looked away awkwardly for a second, not meeting his eye.

"Alright. I'll meet you over there in a little while," she said quietly as she rubbed a paw against her other front leg. The others exchanged a glance, but didn't speak.

"No problem, see you in a little while," Ember said simply. "You too, Spyro, Cynder."

With a final nod of farewell, the couple took off from the roof, leaving the other three behind. Cynder gave a quick glance back as they left. A worried look crossed her face.

"Is she going to—?"

"Yeah." Spyro sighed. Cynder looked as if she was thinking about turning around, but decided against it. They hit the ground a short distance behind the Guardians and the two southern leaders, who were making quick time towards the Academy. Raised voices reached their ears as they drew closer, but before they could make out anything distinct, Volteer glanced over his shoulder and spotted them. He said something to the rest of the group, and there was a clear sound of relief. The electricity guardian dropped back until he was in line with the two younger dragons.

"Endeavouring to eavesdrop on a cut-throat political discussion, young ones?" queried Volteer with a raised eyeridge. Cynder shook her head.

"No, we were just wondering what the fuss was about. That was the first we had heard about them wishing to have a role in the city governance."

Volteer sighed. "Well, we had _hoped_, given present social circumstances, what with large numbers of foreign dragons seeking to acclimatise to their newfound homes, that they would postpone that particular desire until a later date. It seems they shall not be swayed, however."

"Is that not a little presumptuous of them, coming in here and almost immediately asking to become part of the ruling body?" Cynder questioned, sound a little disgruntled.

"Actually, no," Volteer muttered. "Seeing as the southerners make up a considerable portion of the present population, they are quite within their rights to feel entitled to a say in how Warfang is run."

"And you're okay with that?" asked Spyro curiously. Volteer threw the group ahead of them a glance, his face twisted as he worded his answer.

"…Yes and no. While they should have the means to represent their respective charges, I would prefer if we were to delay such a drastic restructuring of government long enough so that we may accurately gauge their character. One can never be too careful."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged a look, but Volteer cut them off suddenly. "But I have uttered more than was prudent. How about you two come and fraternise with our distinguished new leaders? I'm sure they will be more than excited to meet you."

The group ahead had just reached the front doors of the Temple. Terrador halted them before they entered, giving Volteer, Spyro and Cynder enough time to catch up. The two southern leaders looked curiously at them as they approached, but recognition bloomed quickly on their faces.

"The purple dragon, Spyro," said Cyrus coolly, extending a paw to shake. "Hero of the war with Malefor and the recent Human Crisis. I've heard so much about you. Surely a voice such as your own carries huge weight around here."

Spyro paused for a moment as he returned the gesture, measuring his words carefully. "Not particularly. Cynder and I just want a normal life. We're happy to leave decisions up to the Guardians." He spied the infinitesimal nod which Terrador gave him from behind the ice dragon's back. Cyrus raised an eyeridge.

"So modest. That of course makes you Cynder," he said, swinging his head around to the dragoness in question, who met his gaze easily. "I must admit, you're smaller than in the stories I've heard about you."

Spyro stiffened at the veiled insult, but Cynder beat him to the draw. "I get that from new dragons a lot," she said, smiling sweetly, "but only ever once."

Volteer smothered a grin, coughing lightly into his paw. Isis batted her husband lightly on the shoulder. "You're always so frosty towards anyone new! Don't mind him," she added, turning apologetically to Cynder, "I think Spyro's very lucky to have a dragoness as lovely as you at his side."

Cynder smiled, genuinely this time, and dipped her head in thanks. Terrador cleared his throat. "With the pleasantries out of the way, how about we adjourn inside? That is, if you are still eager to discuss the topic at hand?"

Cyrus nodded and they entered the Temple. It was clear from the southerners' faces that they were still getting used to the sheer splendour and magnitude of much of Warfang. While relatively simple, the Temple still boasted a fine array of art and architecture, which certainly was not present in the barren wastelands of the south. The moles, early risers that they were, were already going about their business in the huge building. They stopped and bowed respectfully to the Guardians and newcomers as they passed by, eliciting more surprised looks from Cyrus and Isis

Terrador led them swiftly through into one of the many empty rooms. Only a small table stood in the middle of the dusty room, which the older dragons filed around. Spyro and Cynder stood off to one side.

"Are we agreed then," Terrador began, "that a vote should be held by the populace as to whether Cyrus and Isis should be included in a new Council of Warfang, which will replace the traditional unspoken rule of the Guardians?"

The five other heads around the table nodded, and Terrador gave a little sigh of relief. "Good. But I must tell you, Cyrus and Isis, this vote must hold for several more weeks until we are certain that the transition of your tribe into Warfang society has been successful. We do this in your people's best interests, you understand."

Cyrus sighed heavily. "Yes, I know. I apologise for my bullish behaviour. It's just I've been receiving word from some of my tribe that they have been on the end of suspicion and shunned in some places for their appearances and behaviour. I only seek to be in a position where I can defend the welfare of those entrusted to me."

"We barely survived all those years in the southern deserts," Isis said quietly. "Forgive us if we seem eager to take this opportunity to become part of Warfang. It still seems too good to be true."

Fernus smiled. "I thought the same when I first arrived from hiding. Believe me, be patient and Warfang will be as much your city as it is ours. A good start would be getting your young fellow enrolled in classes with the others."

"You have a son?" Spyro piped up. Isis gave him a quick smile.

"We do indeed. His name is Thu'um , and he's about your age, I should think. He said something about going down to the park today, to meet up with the younger dragons he said he saw wandering about the place. He's been quite shut in since he arrived; I don't think he's quite used to all this yet."

"That's where the others are off to, too," Cynder mentioned. "Maybe we should head down and introduce ourselves?"

Spyro nodded excitedly. No dragons their own age had been among the arrivals of the recent months, and a new face would be welcome. They might even get to learn a bit about the southerners while they were at it. His infectious smile spread to Cynder as they made to head out the door. Just as they left, Volteer called out to them.

"Spyro, Cynder, be sure to have Levina make acquaintance with this new fellow, please? It would do her unparalleled good to converse with a new dragon of her own age," he said with a pleading look on his face. Spyro's smile faded slightly, and he gave an edgy glance over to Cynder, also looking awkward suddenly.

"She, er, said she'd meet us in the park later. She wanted to do her own thing for a while. We thought it would be best to leave her off?" he finished with a questioning note.

Volteer face fell. "If it is quite alright with you," he said, addressing the other adults now, "I will take my leave presently."

"Of course, Volteer," murmured Cyril. "Not a problem."

Volteer ushered the two younger dragons out the door ahead of him. His head drooped as soon as the door closed behind him. He fixed Spyro with a steely gaze. "Are you sure she's gone over there?"

Cynder bit her lip. "We're sorry, Volteer, we would have said something if we'd known—"

"You are not at fault, young Cynder," Volteer said quietly, taking a different route out of the Temple. "Go down to the park and acquaint yourselves with this Thu'um. Levina will be down shortly."

His good mood of a few moments ago had all but evaporated as Spyro watched Volteer's back retreat down the hall. Sensing his discomfort, Cynder curled her tail around his, pulling him slightly closer. "It's okay, he's going to go talk to her. Let's just head down to the park and meet this new guy, it'll be fun."

A smile crept back onto his face at the contact, and he once more stretched his wing over her back, remembering a time when he would have been frightened to consider it. He surprised her with a quick peck on the cheek as they exited the building, heading down towards the park under the sun, which was just reaching its high point in the sky. A low buzzing noise became audible, and a sigh from Cynder confirmed who it was. A small glowing form zipped down in front of his face, miniscule hands rubbing a sleepy face.

"Spyro, bro," said Sparx, "I've been looking everywhere for you. You actually got up to go to that thing?"

Cynder answered somewhat tetchily. "Yes, Sparx, _some_ of us have things that are expected of us."

"Sheesh, what tightened your choker?"

"A baby dragon," Cynder replied dryly. "But seriously, Sparx, that moment was pretty much perfect until you showed up."

Sparx grinned and spread his arms. "It's what I do. The old guys said you were going down to see the new guy, mind if I tag along?"

"No problem, Sparx," Spyro said patiently. "Just ease up on the humour, it's still early."

"Fine, fine," the dragonfly muttered. "Whaddya think of King Icicle and his broad in there? I think Cyril just found himself a new friend!"

"They seem alright, even if he is a bit…cold," said Spyro. "They do seem to only want what's best for the southerners. Let's just go down and meet Thu'um. The others should have introduced themselves by now."

Sparx said something about skipping breakfast and flew on farther down the street before coming to a hover outside a food stall. Spyro and Cynder continued on their leisurely way towards the park where their friends were waiting. Across the city, a small yellow dragoness opened the gate to a graveyard.

**Woo, the gang are back~**

**Just to let you guys know, I'm heading back to school tomorrow, which should give me more time to write (Paradox, I know). Further updates may be more than a week apart, however. Props to Riv again for an incredibly fast beta job on this one. **

**Please review and all that, cause I love to hear what you all think. xD Until next time then, slán! **


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone~ :)**

**Once again, sorry I'm late. I'm hoping to keep an update schedule a little more regular than a fortnight per chapter, but for the time being it may be just that. On a more positive note, my writing's kept pace with my posting so far, and I intend to keep it that way. **

**Thanks a million to everyone who reviewed/favourited last week! :D The fact we hit double digits in reviews after only a week blew me away. Please keep it up, it gives me the warm fuzzies. :3 Now before I get too emotional...**

* * *

**Chapter 2.**

The gate to Ashni cemetery didn't make a sound as Levina pushed it open. This monument to those fallen during the Human Crisis was kept in pristine condition by the armies of moles who maintained the city. In appearance it was much like the other war memorials that dotted the city, remnants of epic clashes throughout Warfang's history. Rows of plain stones marked each grave, some with individual touches put there by loved ones. The grass between was barely high enough to cover her paws, and there was not a weed in sight. Similarly, the gravel paths that split up the rows were evenly raked and clean. Warfang respected its dead.

Levina traced a familiar path slowly towards the centre. She could almost do so with her eyes closed, simply savouring the silence that always dominated this small section of the city. Barely a murmur reached her ears from the busy market streets nearby. She always came at this time of the mid-morning, between classes, but there were none today with the opening of the residential district. With most other dragons working, and her friends relishing the time off class, it was easy for her to slip away. They knew, of course, but they didn't stop her. She was free to wander in solitude and make her two stops along the way.

Even with the sun as high as it was, the statue of her mother cast a long shadow over the ground. Levina paused in her usual spot beneath the bronze memorial. Her mother's face was set in an eternal stoic glare, but the likeness was such that it was easy for her to remember the kind smile and twinkling eyes in place of the bronze and topaz that stood in their place. There were many fresh bouquets of flowers arrayed around the base, even after a year. Only about half of them were her own.

"Hey, Mom," she said quietly. "If you don't mind, I'll be back in a while; I'm just going to go and see Caden first this time."

The statue, as ever, remained mute. She moved on a little ways to one of the smaller stones. It was hard to see, but the grass beside this stone was just that bit more worn than the others.

"Hi, Caden," Levina said. "I said I'd visit you first today. Mom didn't mind. She wouldn't have, anyway."

She took a shaky breath. "Six months. Hard to believe, and now we've got these southerners arriving too. I reckon you'd like their king. He doesn't say much either." She giggled slightly at her own joke. "Everyone else is doing fine. Spyro and Cynder are still happy together, Ember's really adjusted to her lost eye, and Flame's still an idiot."

She half thought the emerald embedded in the rock flashed slightly, kind of like Caden's eyes used to when she spoke to him. She could still see them, as clear as day, the light fading from them…

She shut her own eyes quickly to banish the sight. A set of steps became audible, crunching up the path behind her. Levina glanced behind for a second, but quickly swung her head back, her face darkening.

"Look who it is," she muttered to the headstone. A green earth dragon was making his own way towards the grave. He was a huge specimen, muscle-bound and scarred, presenting a truly formidable image. His head was down, however, and upon seeing her, his steps became slightly unsure. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. The mighty Ferox, scared to visit his own son's grave. It sickened her.

His shadow overlapped her own as he stopped behind her. He didn't try to move her out from in front of the grave; instead she could hear him fumbling with his paws, almost as if he were trying to come up with something to say.

"What do you want?" she deadpanned, turning around to face him. He started suddenly. To her surprise, he didn't snap at her, but she could see a flicker of anger behind his hard eyes.

"Nothing," he said stiffly. "I just wanted to come down and visit."

"First time for everything I suppose," Levina sniffed, looking him square in the face. "I haven't seen you down here before."

"I—" he faltered slightly, avoiding her eye. "Look, I just came to spend a few moments. Is that so wrong to you?"

"Yes," she barked angrily, "because you don't care!"

Ferox growled and took an intimidating step in her direction. She didn't budge. "I do care! I always cared! What do I have to do to make you see that!?"

Levina snarled in the older dragon's face. She suddenly felt so very alive, and so very angry. For some reason the appearance of this dragon who she'd not spoken to in months caused a fire to ignite inside her that she had not felt before. "Don't give me that crap! You didn't care about Caden when he was alive, and you sure as hell don't care about him now that he's dead!"

Ferox's lip twitched. He looked set to retort, but fell back a few steps instead. "I don't have time for this, child. If that's what you want to believe, then that's fine

Levina watched as he turned and stalked back up the gravel path and out the cemetery gate. As his hulking green figure passed beyond sight, a part of her wanted to smile for her little victory, but for some reason it didn't have the effect she thought it would.

A voice came from behind, causing her heart to stop for an instant. "It would not have been totally unreasonable to allow him grieve as well."

Levina spun on the spot, coming face to face with Volteer, who looked impassively at her. She put a paw to her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She hadn't realised he could be so stealthy.

"I must admit I never believed you to be one to force a father away from his own son's graveside," Volteer continued quietly. "Your mother raised you far better than that."

The words struck her like a blow. "Well it doesn't m-matter now, d-does it Master Volteer? Because she's dead t-too."

Volteer took a few slow steps forward and wrapped a huge paw around her, sweeping her into a soft hug. "Unless it has failed to occur to you, Levina, we're the lone occupants of the graveyard. Volteer or Uncle will do."

She shivered before the first few tears leaked out of her eyes. "I-I'm sorry, uncle. He just makes me so…so _angry_. The way he just turns up after all this t-time."

"He does visit," answered Volteer. "Almost as frequently as you do yourself. The cemetery is open continuously, not solely during the interval between second and third classes."

She raised watery eyes to look him in the face. "You mean, even you guys kn—"

"All the Guardians do, Levina," he said seriously, "even if your friends had not come to us to voice their concerns. They care a great deal about you, and you cause them incessant worry."

"I'm sorry," she repeated sadly. "I just don't know what to do. Every time I try to forget, something happens to make me remember, and I'm right back there beside him on the battlefield. Like today; there were just so many new dragons arriving and it reminded me of us a few months back, and that was all it t-took…" She faltered again, lowering her head to his chest.

"It just wasn't fair," she whimpered. "I heard him in the grotto the night before, praying for all our lives, praying for mine, and then his own was taken like that. He did it to save me, even when he didn't have to. Why would the Ancestors do that to him?"

Volteer didn't answer, for there was no answer he could give that would satisfy his distraught niece. "I don't know, Levina. The Ancestors work in mysterious ways. But forget that for now. Your friends await you in the park. I believe there is a new dragon your own age to meet. I've no doubt he too feels a little alone in a new city."

She nodded tearfully as he released her from the embrace, and she wiped a paw furiously against her eyes to dry them. She suddenly felt embarrassed for falling apart like that in front of him. Her uncle gave her a kindly smile, his wizened features regaining their impish look. Her mum had always said her dad had the very same expression, and that it could always make her laugh. Despite herself, the beginnings of a smile crept on to her face.

"The smile suits you infinitely more, my dear," Volteer stated with another grin. "Now, let's rendezvous with your friends. I'm sure they are quite concerned as to your whereabouts by now."

Levina nodded again and the two left the black granite headstone behind amidst its compatriots. She gave a little look back to it. "I'll be back," she mouthed.

They walked back along the raked gravel path, disturbed now by the traffic of the last few minutes. She went to look back a final time as they exited the cemetery, but did a double-take. There was another dragon sitting where she had been a few moments before, looking at the grave. She stopped and squinted, trying to make out their features. The dragon was relatively small, only a little bigger than herself, but the midday sun kept her from getting a good look.

"No dilly-dallying!" chirped Volteer, giving her a little push in the back. "Your friends await you!"

"I'm not doing…whatever!" she grumbled, shooting her uncle an annoyed glare before looking back to where she had been staring. "I'm just trying to see who's sitting over there—"

No-one. The area beside the grave was deserted. She stared incredulously for a moment. There had been another dragon there, definitely. A second shove from Volteer disrupted her thoughts. "What _are_ you gawking at?" he said impatiently.

"The other dr—" she paused. No, telling him she was seeing dragons would not come off well, particularly after her breakdown a minute ago. She would say nothing, and return later to find out who the other mystery mourner was.

"…Sorry, it was nothing," she corrected pleasantly, turning back around to face up the road. "Let's get over to the park."

Volteer frowned, but seemed relieved to hear the words come out of her mouth. She smiled again, and his suspicions ebbed away. They mingled back in with the bustling Warfang crowds going about their daily tasks, slowly making their way towards the park.

* * *

Warfang's general park was one of the many amenities only recently reopened after the extended period of war footing. A large green area was a necessity in a city this size. As well as providing an area for rest and relaxation, it was one of the main flying areas. The impeccably kept park consisted of several acres of cut grass, dotted with clumps of trees and a small lake. Small paths ran throughout where dragons and moles alike could take a stroll in peace and quiet. It had seen an increase in traffic thanks to the increased population, and was a favourite spot for many of Warfang's citizens.

It was also an excellent place to arrange a meeting. In a shaded corner of the park, Ember and Flame sat under a tree, waiting expectantly for the arrival of the newest dragon their own age. Flame was absent-mindedly shredding the last of the browning leaves between his paws, not really paying much attention to the few other dragons and moles milling about. He abruptly swept the leaves within paws' reach into a small pile and spat a small globule of fire onto it. The dead leaves blazed briefly before vaporising. Bored once more, Flame put his head on his paws with a groan and looked at his sister.

"When's he gonna be here?" he moaned loudly. Ember met his eye but didn't answer. She continued to inspect each of the passing dragons in the hope one of them might be theirs, but to no avail. She self-consciously tugged at the fabric headband covering her missing eye, making sure it covered the entirety of the empty space. First impressions were the most vital, her dad had said, and she had learned that the hard way with Cynder. Freaking out the new guy with her war-wound wouldn't be the best idea.

"He can probably hear you grumbling from across the city, you dope," she replied patiently. "Quieten down a bit, please?"

Flame buried his face in his paws. "Gah, fine. Just tell me when he shows up."

Ember shook her head at his antics and returned to her watchful state. Small groups and individuals continued to pass, but none that looked like their dragon. After another few minutes, she sank down to the ground as well, frustrated.

"He definitely said the park," she murmured. "What's keeping him?"

"Probably lost," muttered Flame into the grass. Resigning to the fact he wasn't getting any more sleep, he rolled over onto his back to blearily join his sister's attempts to locate the elusive Thu'um.

All trace of sleep left him when he spotted a small form peering out from an alleyway behind their previous line of sight. He rose to his paws quickly, rubbing one across his eyes. A burgundy dragon their size was watching them intently from beside a stall-front, while seemingly doing his best to remain inconspicuous. As Flame's eyes locked onto the newcomer's grey ones, the latter jolted as he realised he'd been spotted. Flame frowned suspiciously, but the burgundy dragon had already abandoned his place of concealment and was striding purposefully towards them with a friendly smile on his face. Following his line of sight, Ember also spotted the new dragon and a similar smile formed on her own face.

"This must be him!" she said unnecessarily, tugging on Flame's leg. "C'mon, let's go meet him!"

Before Flame could give an answer, she was already pulling him forward with surprising strength. As he stumbled towards the new dragon in his sister's grip, Flame took a second to get a closer look at him. He wasn't as stocky as himself or Spyro, with a slimmer build almost like a dragoness. His underbelly and wing membranes were grey to match his eyes, and he had two swept-back horns on his head, with a third smaller one on his snout. His polite smile gave nothing away.

The three dragons met near the edge of the grass, and Ember immediately threw out a paw in greeting. "You must be Thu'um!" she said brightly as he returned the gesture. He smiled and nodded, flashing a set of teeth that stood out in contrast to his dark scales. "I'm Ember, and this is my brother Flame."

The two males shook paws. Flame squeezed a little harder then was necessary, searching Thu'um's face. He felt the burgundy dragon's paw give way beneath his own, but no hint of discomfort appeared on his face. Instead he simply turned back to Ember with another easy smile.

"Well, you both seem to know me, so there's no point introducing myself. Thanks for meeting me, by the way. I wasn't really sure you'd show up." He ended by rubbing the back of his head bashfully with a paw, eliciting a giggle from Ember.

"Of course we would!" she said with another brilliant smile. "We wouldn't miss the chance to meet someone new, and especially someone our own age. It's a pity we haven't met sooner!"

"I dunno what you were nervous about, Thu'um," said Flame, measuring his words carefully but not looking away from the newcomer. "You knew we were here; you could see us from that stall you were hiding behind."

Ember turned to look questioningly at her brother, missing the fear that shone in Thu'um's eyes for a second. It vanished immediately, though, replaced with a look of polite confusion by the time Ember glanced back at him. He gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

"I don't know what you mean; I only came around the corner a minute ago. Why would I have been hiding behind a stall?"

"What are you on about, Flame?" Ember said, looking slightly uncomfortable at her brother's demeanour. The air between them had suddenly become tense as both males faced off. Pick your fights, his dad had said.

"Nothing," Flame said, backing off a few steps. He grinned half-heartedly. "Must have been my mistake, I didn't mean anything—"

"Not a problem," Thu'um said, with a slightly frosty smile. "We all make mistakes."

Ember gave a relieved sigh as the situation defused, self-consciously readjusting the headband around her eye once more. She noticed Thu'um's eyes flickering to it as she did, and she hurriedly took her paw back down as a blush lit up her cheeks. Turning her head away, she inwardly cursed herself for having drawn attention to it in the first place. She saw Flame forget about the other male for a moment and glance worriedly at her, unsure of what to say. Then a burgundy paw came to rest on her shoulder. She stiffened immediately.

"My uncle wears one of those too, you know. He lost his eye to a Dreadwing," Thu'um said, voice as soft as his grey eyes. "I don't see what there is to be embarrassed about. In our lands at least, it's the sign of an exceptionally brave warrior."

Ember felt her blush intensify. She barely noticed Flame's dark expression out of the corner of her eye as he glared at Thu'um's offending paw on her shoulder. Normally she'd have smacked any drake foolish enough to try that herself by now, but she hadn't.

"Not really…" she managed, fumbling for something to say as he removed his paw. "It was during the human attack, I just got separated from the rest…"

"We'd prefer not to talk about that," said Flame loudly, moving in to wrap a wing around his sister. "If you want to find out more about that, ask Spyro and Cynder. This is them now."

Thu'um turned around, getting his first look at the couple. They approached with wide smiles, accompanied by some strange glowing insect. They certainly didn't look like the famous war heroes he'd heard so much about, but they did look like they knew their stuff. Physically, Spyro was a cut above both himself and Flame, while Cynder carried a look of casual capability about her. He approached them and took their offered paws.

As soon as Thu'um was distracted, Ember pushed Flame off herself, giving him a dirty look.

"What's your problem?"

"I don't like this guy, Ember," Flame said in an undertone, glaring over at the burgundy dragon's back. "He lied back there. He was spying on the two of us from the alley!"

"So what?" Ember whispered back angrily. "He was probably just nervous, and then you go and attack him straight away?"

Flame snorted. "Nervous? This guy? Give me a break." He dropped his tone to mimic Thu'um's smooth voice. "The sign of a great warrior… Smarmy prick. I don't like the way he looks at you, either."

He stumbled backwards as Ember gave him a furious shove. "You're not my dad! Why do you have to do this?"

"Because I want to watch out for you!" Flame spat, sounding hurt. "Obviously you couldn't care less." He turned quickly and stalked away from his sister, face burning. She watched him vanish up a street, shouldering dragon and mole alike out of his way.

"Lovers' quarrel?" said a familiar voice behind her. She sighed in disgust, not in the mood for the dragonfly's humour.

"He's my _brother_, Sparx," she growled. "Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

"Jeez, what is it with you females today?" Sparx grinned, backing away with his tiny hands held up. "And you're right; this new guy has yet to make the pleasure of my acquaintance. Let's meet him, shall we?"

With another long sigh, Ember joined him, putting her brother and his words out of her mind. Spyro and Cynder seemed completely at ease, finishing up on their introductions with Thu'um. She caught the tail end of what the new dragon was saying as she re-joined the little group.

"—and I have to tell you what an honour it is. I've heard so much about you two from my parents, after all."

The purple dragon clasped his paw firmly, but still blushed lightly at the praise. "That isn't necessary; it's our pleasure too, Thu'um. It's great to finally meet you."

"Is it not our honour, to be meeting royalty?" Cynder quipped.

"Royalty? You must have me confused with someone else," Thu'um laughed. "We're just the dragons they thought were best for the job…"

Sparx yawned next to Ember's ear as the pleasantries continued. "This is so boring. I might as well introduce myself."

Thu'um's laugh was abruptly cut off as Sparx plonked down onto his nose. "So you're the new guy, huh?" the dragonfly said, crossing his tiny arms. "Just so you know, this is my city, and these are my friends. Mess with them, and you have to answer to me. I don't mean to frighten you; I find it's good to get this sort of thing outta the way early."

"Uhh…"

"That would be Sparx. Spyro's brother." Cynder sighed. "If you don't mind him, he actually goes away after a while."

Thu'um recovered quickly from the introduction, holding out a single claw for Sparx to shake. "Nice to meet you, Sparx."

"You bet it's nice to meet me, chump. Since nothing else of interest is going on here, Imma see if I can't cheer up little Flame."

Sparx vanished over Thu'um shoulder with mischief written all over his face. Spyro continued on unfazed, familiar by now with his brother's tendencies.

"What's your element, if you don't mind me asking?" he queried. "You look like you're a fear dragon. I'm sorry to bother you, we just don't have that many of them. It's a rare element."

Before Thu'um could even open his mouth to reply, however, he was cut off by a rapid stream of words from behind him.

"Then you'd be incorrect, my boy. While this young fellow's colouring might suggest mastery over fear, he is in fact of a rarer breed altogether."

A shadow fell between the four dragons as Volteer joined their party, accompanied by Levina, who was standing quite close to him. Spyro and Cynder both gave her warm smiles as she was introduced, but she seemed very shy to Thu'um. She barely managed to meet his eye when they shook paws.

"But back to the original question. You are, if I'm not gravely mistaken," continued Volteer, "a sound dragon."

Every one of the younger dragons did a double take at the words, staring at Thu'um with an amazement he took in his stride. "I'm surprised you recognised that," he said to the older dragon. "Barely anyone does."

"You don't get to my age without learning a few things," Volteer said with a wizened smile. "A curious warping of the Fear gene, which removes the usual paralysing ability of the screech while amplifying the remaining sound, among other things. Maybe you'll give us a demonstration?"

Thu'um bit his lip. "Not right now, if that's okay. There are a few things I need to do now…"

"Of course, how unnecessarily rude of me to force that upon you," Volteer admonished himself. "Another time, perchance."

"We were just on our way to eat," Spyro said, looking around at his friends. "Would you like to meet us there in a little while?"

Thu'um nodded, already making a move towards leaving. "That sounds great. I'll see you guys in a little while, and it was great meeting you all!"

He slipped back around the corner he had emerged from originally to a chorus of "Bye" and "Seeya". Ember watched him all the way. Just before he vanished, he took a quick peek back. Another one of the smiles that seemed to come so easily to him split his muzzle as he spotted Ember still watching. Taking an exaggerated look around as if to make sure no-one was watching, he blew a cheeky kiss in her direction. After taking a second to laugh at her 'are you serious?' face, he left for good. She was glad he couldn't see her blush.

* * *

**Absolutely no prizes whatsoever to the people who immediately realise where the inspiration for Thu'um came from. xD Totally not the name of my level 50-something Khajiit either...**

**Anymawhosawhatsit, hope you all enjoyed this! If you're feeling generous, review and/or favourite. Any questions, PM me, and I'll be back in a fortnight or so****.**

**(Obligatory thanks to Riv for editing this despite her insane workload~)**

**Slán!**


	4. Chapter 3

**That fortnight sure passed quickly. xD Yo peoples~**

**Every fortnight is looking to be the schedule for the next while, I think, cause it's taking me that long to write a new chapter in between school and all that. I hope you guys don't mind. :/ **

**Thanks again for the reviews, favs, follows and PM's last time around! Each and every one of you are awesome. :3**

* * *

**Chapter 3.**

"Are you _sure_?"

The words echoed ominously in the crowded hall. Godfrey felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as every eye in the room turned to him. The mead hall of the village was always used for important meetings, as it was the only one capable of holding the entire population. The centre of the hall featured a depression which ran the length of it, currently piled high with fuel and ablaze in blatant disregard for the wooden walls and ceiling of the building. The huge fire lit up the entire hall of cloaked men, painting their shadows over the walls. In the shifting light, the man who had posed the question to Godfrey looked especially intimidating. The old man did not look away, however.

"Yes, Dearg," he said, "I was there last year; I was there that night. I know what I saw."

Dearg sat in a plain seat at the top of the hall, flanked by a pair of guards. Completely unnecessary, but if what Godfrey was saying was true, he had little grounds to argue with their presence. He was clothed in a thick green belted tunic, with a shaggy black cloak thrown over his wide shoulders. As he listened, he ran a hand through his thick red hair in frustration, before fixing the older man in his sights again.

"You understand what this means?" he said lowly, boring into Godfrey's face as if hoping for an ounce of dishonesty. "If what you're saying is true, then a dragon knowingly and deliberately attacked one of our men."

Godfrey nodded resolutely, just as a shout rang from the back of the hall. "Men? It was a bloody child!"

An angry murmur ran through the crowd, and Dearg interjected quickly. "Yes, I know. I knew the boy, and we will all mourn his passing, but just listen to me for a minute."

The muttering halted almost immediately, for which he was very grateful. The obedience and trust they placed in him still took considerable getting used to, considering he himself had been nothing but a slave mining ore only months before. But he had gone from a slave to a soldier and from a soldier to a leader.

He scanned the mens' faces, seeing the anger, but also the fear. The hall was rank with it. It was only a few months old, just like the village. The shields that decorated the walls were just that: decorations instead of necessities. They had come so far since that confrontation on the fields outside Warfang, and now that progress hung by a thread.

All this and more ran through the burly leader's mind, but he pushed it aside for the moment. "I do not doubt the truth in your words, Godfrey, as much as I wish they were false. This is the third such story to reach me, and the first from our own village, but we must not jump to conclusions."

He took a deep calming breath before he continued. "Most likely this is the work of a rogue dragon, an exile from Warfang or some such. A dragon outside the control of the Guardians, that's the only explanation for a breach of our agreements."

He saw a few expressions soften, but Godfrey took an aggressive step forward, his face awash with fury and guilt. In a heartbeat, Dearg's two guards lowered their spears, but Dearg waved them off with a frantic gesture.

"That can't be true," said Godfrey with quiet intensity, "because I spoke with Fletcher from Hightower, and he said the dragon that took his brother was green. He said he'd swear that in front of every god. Wycleff'll tell you, the one that took Ala…the boy, was red."

The muttering began anew, but Dearg made no attempt to stop it this time. The shock of the words registered plainly on his face. He did not seem to see the older man continue, instead sinking back into his chair.

"He was only a wee lad," whispered Godfrey, his voice breaking slightly. "I was supposed to be looking out for him…"

Another man moved in to lend him an arm as the first few tears ran down the old hunter's cheeks, but Godfrey struck it away sharply. Without waiting for dismissal, he turned and pushed his way through the other warriors. They stood aside to allow him exit. Dearg watched numbly as a few of Godfrey's close family left with him, offering him blank looks as they left. But they were more than that; they were challenges. He abruptly got to his feet.

"This changes things," he said firmly. "I don't believe for second that Warfang would sanction attacks on us, but if there is more than one rogue dragon attacking humans, they _must_ know something about it."

He ignored the few dubious looks the first part of the sentence got him. It was widely accepted that Dearg had brokered the peace between the two races, but there were more than a few who thought his implicit trust in the scaled beasts was more than a little naïve. He tolerated the views; he knew the memories of enslavement were still fresh in their minds, but they had not been inside the city as he had. He had spoken with their Guardians, and they were creatures of peace. The dragons' _leaders_, at any rate, meant them no harm. He knew it. These rogue elements were a different thing altogether.

"It's the only thing that makes sense, sir," another man offered. "Godfrey and the boys were attacked a week ago outside the Pinewood. The Hightower men say their attack happened eight days ago. There's no way even a dragon could travel that distance. They even knew when we'd be hunting."

Dearg nodded grimly. "You're right. There are two dragons at work, maybe more, but I intend to get to the bottom of this." He raised his voice to ensure the entirety of the hall could hear. "Three days from now I ride for Warfang. I will meet with the Guardians and I will find out, one way or another, who or what is responsible for the attacks. I promise you this."

There was a collective release of breath, and a few tentative smiles broke through the solemn masks of the villagers. Several of the men clapped each other on the back encouragingly, and Dearg himself left his elevated position to join them. One of the men clasped his hand in both of his own and gave it a firm shake, looking deeply relieved.

"I can't thank you enough for that, Dearg," he said gratefully. "My wife and young ones have been too afraid to leave the house since Alaric was taken. We live in the middle of the village; I can't even begin to think what the outliers must have gone through!"

Dearg gave an understanding nod as the crowd of men began to trickle out the doors of the stuffy hall in favour of the cool night air outside. "I know what you mean. Sarah won't go out after dark herself. I reckon she's the one that landed the guards on me, too. Gods know I didn't ask for them!"

This got a chuckle from the other man. "You need to stay safe, though. We'd be in a pretty bad place if it weren't for you."

Before Dearg could say anything to the contrary, his compatriot's words were echoed by several of the remaining men. Dearg grinned ruefully.

"You all love putting me on a pedestal." He sighed. "I'm pretty sure you'd all get along just fine with or without me."

"Yeah, right…."

"Good one…"

Dearg and the other man came to a stop under the porch of the mead hall, where a couple of other men waited. Rain was falling heavily all around them and, as they looked, the sky was illuminated by a fork of lightning. A couple of the men said their goodbyes, pulling their cloaks up to cover their heads as they sprinted out into the weather. They didn't have far to run. The hall was the centremost building in the village, and very few houses were more than a few hundred paces away. A couple of lights still burned in the windows, lone sentinels against the encroaching dark. As they watched, another couple went out.

"I think I'll give it a few minutes before I head into that," the other man muttered, sounding none too pleased at the prospect. "We've had enough rain to grow ten harvests at this stage."

Dearg cringed as a man barrelled out of a small street across from them and slipped straight into a deep puddle, drenching himself in the process. A loud curse drifted towards them, audible even through the constant roar of the rain. The man picked himself up and continued in their direction.

"Sounds good to me," Dearg said. "Sarah won't mind if I'm not home for a little while longer."

"Dearg! Dearg, sir!"

The men on the porch, Dearg included, jolted as the same half-drowned man careened up the steps of the hall towards them. Dearg's two guards slid in front of their leader, once more directing the points of their spears at the newcomer, who glared ferociously at them.

"What am I…going to…stab him with, you fools? My tunic?!" he yelled. His hair was plastered against his scalp, as were his clothes to his body. His chest rose and fell with great shuddering gasps, and as he shouted, he leant a hand against the nearby rails to support himself.

"What is it?" Dearg said sharply, moving in front of his men. "What's the matter?"

"There's been…another dragon attack!" the man choked out, falling to one knee with a hand against his chest. Dearg ignored the strangled yells of his comrades on the porch, and walked straight over to where the messenger knelt. He plucked him off the ground with two vice-like hands.

"Where!" he roared, rooting the man to the spot in fear. "Tell me, now!"

The drenched messenger swallowed deeply, and Dearg felt a fear take hold of him. The man pointed a shaky hand westward, the way the red haired man had hoped he wouldn't.

"It was…y-your house, sir," he squawked.

Dearg released him as if he'd been burned. The messenger collapsed to the ground. Whether it was from exhaustion or hypothermia, he didn't get back up. Dearg turned to the other men, snapping them out of their terrified stupor.

"One of you, get him in beside the fire. The rest of you with me right now!" he roared.

Before they could answer, he forged straight out into the driving rain, not even bothering to put his hand up to cover his eyes. He was blinded almost immediately, but he knew the route by heart. As he thundered up the narrow dirt street, a thousand horrible scenarios ran through his mind, each more stomach-churning than the last. He resisted the urge to let the tears come. His wife had been at home alone tonight. It had been just her and the child. Oh Gods, his _son_…

He redoubled his speed.

He glimpsed several curious faces peering out from shuttered windows, no doubt confused as to why their leader was sprinting full pelt through the pouring rain, destroying his fine clothes in a river of muck. In his haste, he took the final corner too fast and tumbled in a patch of sludgy ground. Dearg cursed desperately as he wiped away the dirt from his eyes. His house burned fiercely in front of him despite the downpour. He somehow found purchase again with his feet and staggered the last few steps, pushing through several men who were battling the blaze.

" Sarah!_" _Dearg howled. "_Sarah!"_

He looked on in horror as a section of the thatched roof collapsed, forcing him to cover his eyes from the shower of sparks that followed. Dearg took a few steps towards the searing heat, but a hand gripped him on the shoulder. He spun around furiously.

"Get off me! I have to—"

"Dearg!"

He was struck dumb as the woman he'd been searching so desperately for locked eyes with him. Her blond hair was a complete mess, and her brilliant blue eyes swollen and red, but it was her all the same. Before he could so much as breathe, she locked her arms around his midsection. Words tumbled out of her. "Thank the Gods you're alive! I came back and saw the house on fire and I thought…I thought…"

She faltered, and Dearg took the opportunity to cup her face firmly in his hands. His blue eyes bore into hers. "Sarah. _Where's Nikola_?"

"My sister's," she gasped without a moment's hesitation. Dearg's knees almost buckled from relief, and he embraced his wife again. They were both alive. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. The driving rain had ceased to matter to him at all.

"What happened?" he croaked hoarsely. He felt her shudder in his grip as she began to speak.

"I had just gone over to my sister's to visit. I brought Nikola with me because I didn't want to leave him in the house by himself. When I was leaving, he asked to stay another while to stay playing with Gertrude. You know how the two of them are," Sarah said, chuckling weakly. "As I was on my way back, I saw it, just sitting on top of the house, like it _wanted _to be seen. If it hadn't been so dark, half the village would have seen it."

"And then what?"

"It pulled the roof off the bedroom, and started breathing fire into it. I didn't know what to do; I just hid behind the nearest house, and I'm sorry, Dearg…"

He cut her apology off with a quick kiss. "Don't be. You did the right thing. Gods know what I would have done had either of you been hurt."

They stood there for a few more moments, locked together in front of their smouldering ruin of a house. A man cautiously detached himself from the group that had accompanied Dearg thus far, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh, Dearg? What would you have us do?"

Loathe as he was to do it, Dearg released his wife from his embrace. By the time he turned to face the man who had called him, his face was dark and his voice steely.

"Find a bed for my wife and son, firstly. Organise a group to see if they can salvage anything from the house. And saddle my horse. I'm leaving for Warfang at first light."

The man nodded. He pulled off his cloak and draped it over Sarah's shoulders as he led her away to the nearest building. Dearg watched them go before giving one last look to what should have been his home for many years, now a pile of charred wood around a broken stone chimney.

"They'd better be able to explain this."

* * *

**Sorry about the length guys, this one ended up being pretty fast paced. On the other hand, Dearg's back! That's a good thing, right? xD**

**(For anyone wondering, it's pronounced "Jar-ug". Go Gaelic~)**

**After a little discussion with Riv, some chapters may have to be chopped and changed, so the next chapter may take longer than two weeks. :/ If that does happen, however, the following one will follow a lot quicker than usual, promise. While I'm at it, thanks to Riv again. There was a lot to be edited on this particular piece. xD**

**Any thoughts, suggestions or grievances can be left in the little box below. :P Alternatively, fire a PM my way, I always respond. **

**Slán!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone~**

**Well, I said I'd be a little late, and here I am. xD Through a bit of a screw-up on my own part I didn't get this chapter until today, so sorry about that. Also combination of several things including, but not limited to, rugby, school and being at home for the first time since August slowed me down a bit, but I did get another chapter written, so yay. :] Finally, I'd once again like to that you loyal folk reading and reviewing every week. Love you guys. :D**

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**Chapter 4.**

Although the Academy was one of the largest buildings in all of Warfang, the tinny sound of the bell that signalled the end of morning class somehow managed to find its way to even the farthest reaches. Almost simultaneously, the classroom doors swung open, discharging weary students out of the foyer and into the streets. The older students usually didn't bother with the mad rush to the nearby cafés, but as it was a particularly cold morning, Spyro, Cynder, Ember and Flame were among the first out of class and into a nearby heated eatery.

The mole serving as waiter took only the briefest of glances at the group before whisking them into a comfortable warm booth in the corner of the café. They barely had time to nestle themselves on cushions around the low table before a platter of drinks materialised at the paws of another mole. He bowed low before retreating again, studiously ignoring Spyro's feeble protests.

"I dunno why you bother, man." Flame grinned, grabbing his own cup with gusto. "You're one half of the most famous duo in Warfang; always will be. Just live with it."

"I don't care; I keep asking them not to do this type of thing," Spyro muttered. The owner of the establishment was anxiously hovering nearby, trying and failing to be discreet as he waited for them to relax. When he saw Spyro staring flatly at him, he quickly retreated back into the kitchen.

Cynder put a paw on his shoulder. "It's fine. We'll just toss a few gems at them and run before they can give them back!"

The group chuckled, and Spyro gave her a warm smile.

"You always know what to say."

"When you have to deal with Sparx as much as I do, it becomes second nature."

The two of them laughed again before nuzzling together in the booth. Ember's coo was quickly drowned out by Flame's gagging.

"C'mon guys, we're in public," he groaned. "When it was just you two it was fine, but now it's Ember and the new guy too…"

Spyro and Cynder broke apart abruptly to give Ember a look of surprise. The pink dragoness glowered at her brother. "Shut up. I still can't believe you did that. We talk for barely five minutes and you treat him like some sort of spy!"

"Why do you even care?" he replied shortly. "There's something off about him, I'm telling you. Skulking away in that alley before I spotted him, and then he just struts across like it was nothing. I don't like him."

Ember snorted. "Figures. The minute some guy your own age shows up, you treat him like some kind of opponent."

"And the minute some guy _your_ own age shows up, you're all over him," Flame countered.

"Hey!" Spyro hissed, drawing their attention immediately. "Could you two quit it? Look where we are!"

The two siblings realised the café had quietened down considerably during their little spat, and lowered themselves to the floor. After an awkward few moments, the regular hum of conversation resumed. Spyro took a deep breath.

"Thank you. How about you two bury the hatchet for a few minutes and we talk about what we're really here for?"

The line had the desired effect, and both Ember and Flame settled down looking equally chastised.

"Levina," mumbled Flame.

"That's right," said Cynder. "Levina. Or more specifically, her hatchday."

"We all know she's been out of sorts since Caden died," Spyro said quietly. "She needs something to bring her back, to remind her of her friends who are still with her and that they care for her. It's going to be her 17th hatchday. We're going to put together a party, or a get-together, or something. Something to make her see that we want her to be well again. Agreed?"

Three heads nodded.

"Do you think we should invite the Guardians?" Cynder asked. "I know we all have more to do with them than most, but it would be something to say they attended."

"And the hatchlings she looks after too!" Ember piped up. "She adores them, and they'd really liven up the place!"

"Thu'um and his parents too," Spyro added firmly. "It'll be a gesture of goodwill towards the southerners, and it might make them a little more comfortable about working with us."

Cynder nodded happily at the suggestion, as did Ember. Flame merely glowered at the look that flashed across his sister's face when Spyro had mentioned the southern prince. It was the same look she'd been giving Spyro when they'd first arrived so many months ago, and he didn't like it one bit.

"…some of the other Academy students too, to really make it a crowd," Spyro concluded, half jolting Flame out of his reverie. The other two had wide smiles across their faces to match Spyro's satisfied look at having finished his speech.

"So what do you think, Flame?"

Oh...yeah," Flame stuttered, still caught up in his thoughts. "Really great idea, Levina's gonna love it."

"Love what?"

All four of them nearly upended the table as the familiar voice sounded beside them. Levina stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor next to their booth, looking from one astonished face to the next with a quizzical expression. Unbeknownst to her, several of the other students in the café were looking on in similar amazement.

"The food…that we're ordering," managed Cynder hurriedly. "But Levina, you're here."

The yellow dragoness gave a little laugh, slightly unnerved by the attention. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"But it's morning break from classes, and you're here," Flame continued slowly, as if the information wasn't quite making sense. He blinked several times.

Volteer's words came back to her, and Levina started. Of course they knew of her trips to the graveyard; that was why they were so surprised to see her now. She usually spent the entire of morning break there, just sitting and talking by the stones. She was suddenly aware of the silence as they waited for her to speak.

"That's okay though, right?" She grinned hopefully. As soon as the words left her mouth, Ember reached a paw out to pull her into the booth. Levina couldn't hide a blush as her friend squeezed her into a tight hug.

"It's more than okay," said Ember softly. "It's brilliant to see you here."

Across the table, Spyro and Cynder shared a warm smile at the sight. While the two friends embraced, Cynder's eyes met Spyro's. The purple dragon picked up on the message she was sending. Without thinking, he nodded and settled back slightly to see what Levina's response would be.

"Levina," said Cynder hesitantly, as if afraid at what her next words would do, "does this mean that you'll be spending the mornings with us from now on?"

Levina stiffened slightly, a cue Ember took to withdraw. Her friends waited silently for her answer, all four faces wearing the same expression of trepidation. She took a calming breath. They had probably assumed she hadn't gone this morning, and that this was some sign she wouldn't be going again. She _had_ gone, but only for a moment. There had been no sign of the dragon she'd seen by Caden's grave the other day, however, and her desire to find out who that was now overrode her desire to sit and mourn. So she had left.

Whoever was visiting, they'd never shown up while she'd sat there before. Her only explanation was that they didn't want her to see them. Her best bet was to try and surprise them. Failing that, she would let everyone think her graveyard vigils were something she was ready to consign to the past.

Once again, she became acutely aware of the silence.

"Yes," she said finally, smiling at the grins that spilt her friends' faces, "every morning from now on."

A loud clang interrupted anything that was said after that, as the bell in the Academy tower tolled midday. On cue, the tables around them began to empty; the bell also signified the ten minute countdown to the beginning of the afternoon lessons. Spyro looked forlornly down at his unfinished drink before reminding himself it had been a freebie in the first place.

"Come on," he said, breaking up the happy buzz of Levina's return. "We'd best be getting back."

It wasn't until they got to the door that they realised something was a little bit off. A group of their fellow students were standing in the doorway and trying to peer over the shoulders of several other older dragons. All of them were fixed on something that was happening in the square outside. Angry roars reached them seconds before the tell-tale screech of a Fear shot echoed around the square, causing a universal wince among the crowd. Spyro, Cynder and the group exchanged alarmed looks.

Cynder took immediate action, vanishing in a wisp of darkness into the ground. She passed unhindered beneath the crowd, erupting in an unnecessary but attention-grabbing gout of dark smoke in the centre of the square. Moments later, Spyro emerged from the café, having muscled his way through the onlookers with their friends in tow.

Outside one of the vendors' stalls that resided in little alcoves around the square, a blood-red southern dragon stood facing off with a livid ice dragon who was backed up by several others of his kind. The southern dragon was quailing under the ferocious stares of the Warfang dragons, all of whom seemed to be recovering from the Fear blast they had heard only moments before.

"You southern thief!" snarled the ice dragon. "You steal from my store, then you attack us in broad daylight!?"

The dark red dragon backed up several more steps, his eyes darting fearfully around as the ice dragon's companions advanced on him. He spotted Spyro and Cynder, and immediately threw himself at their paws, his cloth-wrapped muzzle pressed against the paving stones at their feet.

"Merciful Spyro and Cynder, protect me from these ones! They seek to kill me!"

The ice dragon and his company halted upon seeing them standing over the grovelling fear dragon. Another growl emanated from the ice dragon's throat before the alleged thief could finish his plea. "That's a lie! The southern scum tried to steal from me! Don't listen to his lies!"

"Silence!" snapped Cynder with authority.

The cowering southerner yelped and retreated out of paw's reach, looking furtively between his impromptu rescuers and the group still glaring daggers back at him. The crowd edged in ever-so-slightly with bated breath, waiting to see what the heroes of Warfang would do. Spyro took a cautious step forward.

"Now, can anyone tell me what happened? With as _little_ bias as possible," he added, seeing the ice dragon opening his mouth. The store owner gave a huff at the words, but began to recount.

"Good Spyro and Cynder, I own one of these stalls in the square here where I sell fine jewellery, and have done for many years with an unblemished record. I was tending to my stall as usual when this one came up and asked to have a look at some of my more expensive wares, which I keep inside. I went inside for only a moment to retrieve them, and when I came out he was trying to switch a valuable piece of my jewellery with some worthless tripe he had in his paw!"

The ice dragon finished his little recital by holding up a pair of jewelled torcs in the air for the entire crowd to see. One shimmered as only real gold could, and was carved with intricate skill. In contrast, the one beside it was dull and worn. The flat look of iron was unmistakeable. To attempt to switch the two was folly.

Spyro looked sternly down at the southerner, who was by now shaking under the piercing gazes of an entire crowd of unfriendly dragons. "Is this true?"

"No, I swear it!" he gasped. "It is true I took it to see it with my own eyes, for that is our way! I could not have bought such a beautiful thing without first having held it, felt it, and seen it against my own! I simply meant to compare the two works, for I wished to purchase the torc myself."

Spyro and Cynder flicked their eyes back up to the store owner, who blustered furiously. "Lies! He did not for one minute make any attempt to buy it from me! This is nothing but a sham to save his worthless hide!"

"I do not lie!" shouted the southerner. He reared up angrily to face his accuser. "See here, my coin purse! It contains exactly the amount you sought, had you but let me open it!"

Silence fell as the southerner withdrew the large pouch from beneath his dusty wrappings. He deposited it shakily at Spyro's feet and watched as the purple dragon methodically counted out the coins under the gazes of what was by now an enormous crowd. The bell tolled again in the Academy, but not a single dragon moved from where they stood. As Spyro counted out the last coin in a neat pile on the ground, whispers broke out. The ice dragon sank backwards, aghast.

"The amount exactly," he said hoarsely. "But how can this be?"

"I'll tell you how," said Spyro quietly. "Because you were so quick to point the claw at an innocent dragon, you didn't even listen to what he had to say!"

The crowd hushed again as the purple dragon's quiet sentence ended in a shout. He continued angrily. "I can't believe you! Just because he was a southerner, you felt the need to be instantly suspicious of him! Of course their customs and ways will be different to ours, and it's up to us to respect that. Of course he defended himself, if one minute he was attempting to inspect your wares, and the next you and this band of thugs were trying to hurt him!

"Band of thugs!?" cried the ice dragon. "Now you listen here—"

"No, you're the one listening to me," growled Spyro , hushing him instantly. "It's our job to welcome these new dragons to our city, and to treat them like our own. What you did was completely unacceptable, and I will not allow it to happen again."

The store owner's eyes bulged with fear. "What…what are you g-going to do?"

"Nothing," Spyro replied calmly, "except ask you to apologise for your actions."

The ice dragon went limp with relief. Under Spyro's stern gaze, he slowly offered his paw to the southern dragon who, after a moment's hesitation, took it and shook with strength. As soon as was polite, the store owner withdrew and slunk away into the crowd, accompanied by his cronies.

"A million thanks to you, Spyro," said the southerner solemnly, holding a paw in a peculiar gesture across his chest. "If you had not arrived when you did, I fear they would have done me great harm. I will tell of your kindness to all my people."

Spyro smiled gratefully. "I just did what I thought was best. From what I have seen so far, your people are fair and decent. I thought his accusation was a bit unfounded."

"Well-spoken for one so young," the southerner said graciously. He took a quick glance up at the sky. "I must bid you goodbye now. I am sure you also have somewhere to be. My name is Urgost, by the way. Hopefully our paths will cross again."

"Hopefully," Spyro agreed. "Goodbye, then!"

The crowd parted to allow Urgost to leave, talking excitedly amongst themselves as they followed suit. Spyro watched the southerner leave before turning back to his friends. They were all watching him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"That was amazing!" crowed Flame. "You just walked in there and sorted that out like some kind of Guardian!"

"I'll have to admit, Spyro," said Cynder, looking similarly impressed, "I'd forgotten how intimidating you can be when you want to."

They laughed as he blushed, all trace of the seriousness now gone from his face. Still chuckling, Cynder wrapped her tail around his and the group headed back for the Academy. They were now atrociously late for class.

"We can just explain what happened though, right?" said Levina unsurely when the point was raised. "They have to make exceptions for something like that…"

"For Spyro stopping an all-out civil war? Yeah, they might." Flame grinned. "You never know Cyril, though. He'd scold Malefor for showing up late to take over the world again."

They all grimaced at the off-colour joke. Flame sighed.

"Killjoys…"

"Is that Thu'um?" said Cynder suddenly, pointing down a side-street. The burgundy dragon was indeed coming hurriedly up the street, no doubt aware of his own lateness. He didn't seem to notice them. Ember quickened her step.

"I'll go and ask him about…you know!" she called back.

Spyro and Cynder gave covert nods in return. Levina gave a nonplussed look to Flame, and was surprised to see him fuming at his sister's retreating back.

"What was she talking about?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. You'll find out soon," he sighed, tearing his eyes away. "C'mon, they can catch up with us."

Ember loped over to where Thu'um was. The sound dragon was muttering to himself, apparently completely oblivious to her presence. She yelled to get his attention.

"Hey, Thu'um!"

He started so comically she burst out laughing. He sank to the paving stones, resting a paw across his heaving chest.

"Ember! Don't… You weren't following me, were you?"

Ember tilted her head. "No. Why would you ask something like that?"

A breath of relief escaped him, along with a little chuckle. "No reason. Everything else alright?"

She remembered her reason for coming over in the first place, and grinned again. "Oh yeah. We're having a surprise party for Levina in a few days, for her 17th hatchday. So we were hoping you'd like to come." She bit her lip. "I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

A curious smile crept onto his face as he forced himself back onto all four paws, making him the taller of the two. She refused to look away this time, meeting his grey eyes resolutely as she waited for his response.

"I'd love to," he said finally. "But don't you reckon your brother might have a thing or two to say about that?" He ended his sentence with a wry grin.

Ember felt herself go slightly red at the insinuation, but she scoffed. "Him? I don't need his approval to do anything."

Thu'um's grin widened. "Good to hear. But I'm really late for class, so…"

"Oh…right…sorry."

With a final nod, Thu'um swept by and into the Academy ahead of her, but not before blowing another one of his cheeky kisses. This time she was ready, though, catching it and batting her eyelashes at him as she did so. She smiled triumphantly as his mouth fell open before he could catch himself. Knowing he'd lost this round, he shook his head and disappeared down a hallway.

Ember soon followed, all too aware of her own lateness. She didn't mind facing Cyril and his unparalleled powers of reprimand, though. Suddenly, she was looking forward to this party a lot more.

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**I don't really have anything to add today, besides the usual. xD Review/Follow/Favourite if you feel like it, or hit me up about anything else. Next chapter will be along sooner than this, Pinkie Promise. Last but not least, thanks again to Riv, who despite my little blunder still finished this in no time. :P**

**Slán!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Surprise~ **

**Yeah, I'm back again fairly soon this time. xD I was late the last time around, so consider this me making up for it! It's about time there was a proper bit of movement plot-wise anyway...**

**So yeah, hopefully y'all enjoy this. I'm somewhat stalled plot-wise for the time being, but I hope to get a lot done over the Halloween break, once I've my birthday and stuff outta the way. :P**

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**Chapter 5.**

The lone sentry dragon standing watch over the main gate shivered violently as an unforgiving gust of wind blew through the gatehouse. The small box over the gates was open to the weather to avoid the glare of glass windows. It also meant the post was the least desirable of all guard duties during the winter months. The torch burning in the bracket beside him was his only companion, and a necessary one as the sun was only barely creeping over the horizon.

The guard gave an irritated huff at his misfortune, wrapping his wings around himself to stave off the cold. He looked out over the plain for what must have been the hundredth time that night. Or morning. He didn't really care that much anymore. There was nothing out of the ordinary, not that he expected there to be.

Then a voice called up in greeting from beneath him, startling him so much that one of his flailing wings caught the torch. It plummeted over the side of the sentry post and down onto whoever was standing before the gate. He cursed and quickly leaned over the side of his post. The torch had impaled itself in the ground, illuminating the shapes of three exhausted-looking humans, the third of whom was holding the reins of three similarly ragged horses.

"The standards of the Watch seem to have slipped since my last visit," said the tallest of the group, who was wrapped in a large black travelling cloak. He gestured hopefully at the huge gates in front of him. "We've ridden long and hard, sentry, and it would please us if you'd grant us entry into the city."

The fire dragon narrowed his eyes at the slight. He leaned further over the railing, spreading his wings to make himself appear bigger.

"Who do you think you are, human, to demand entry into the city?" he growled, pleased at how intimidating it sounded. "I've a right mind to leave you out here until the gates open in a few hours' time!"

The large man's face darkened at the words. His companion holding the horses' reins gave a cry of outrage, enough to send the animals skittering away a few feet. The sentry smirked at the effect his words had, until the final man's words reached him on his platform.

"Watch your tongue, you scaly cur! You're speaking to Dearg, leader of humanity in Avalar, and envoy to your precious dragon council!"

At this, the blood promptly drained from the fire dragon's face. Floundering across the platform, he smashed a paw to the gate controls and heard the network of gears that comprised the locking mechanism groan into action. After a few seconds, the great doors to the city creaked open enough for the three men and their steeds to slip inside. Quickly shutting the gates again, the sentry galloped down the spiral stairs to ground level. The newcomers stood in the street, blinking from the light of the street torches. Dearg looked on disdainfully as the dragon profusely apologised.

"Forgive me, Dearg, for my rudeness. Had I known it was you, I would never have—"

"Said what you said, I know," remarked Dearg. "I would expect even three of the lowest serfs in the land to at least be afforded common courtesy, however."

The dragon flinched at his words. He could see several more months of night watches in his immediate future. Dearg looked up and down the street they stood in, spotting no lights in any windows. He sighed and pulled his cloak a little tighter.

"Please inform Terrador that I'd like to speak with him and the other Guardians as soon as possible about a matter of urgency," he told the sentry. "I don't care what they have planned this morning, and I don't care if we put someone at an inconvenience. I want to see him. My companions and I will wait until you return."

The hapless sentry nodded fearfully, already quailing at the prospect. "Are y-you sure you are alright to wait here until then? It m-may take me s-some time…"

"As long as you're back before the gates open," Dearg snapped, finally losing his patience with the quivering dragon. "I think we'll survive. Now go!"

With a terrified salute, the dragon scarpered in the direction of the larger buildings in the centre of the city. As soon as he was out of sight, Dearg sank down into a crouch, rubbing his hands against his face to stave off the tiredness.

"We have food and water to spare, sir," said one of his men concernedly. "If you need something, just tell us."

Dearg waved him off. "No, Ricard. What I need is an audience with the dragons, an end to these attacks, and a good night's sleep. If I can even get one of those today, I'll be happy."

He grabbed a box standing against a nearby wall and sat tiredly down. Placing his head in his hands once more, he sat waiting for the return of the guard and the Guardians' response.

* * *

The door flung inwards with a satisfying bang as Dearg stalked through it, flanked on either side by his two men. The dust and stone of the Guardians' quarters was a far cry from the dirt and wood of their villages. It brought back memories of when he stood here not so long ago, shamelessly optimistic for the future. Looking back, it seemed bloody naïve.

The four Guardians were sitting around one of their many low tables, but they rose to their paws as he entered. He slowed down a little, curiously touched by what he knew was a human, not dragon, gesture of respect. For a moment, he felt his anger subside. Then Cyril spoke, and Dearg realised that pomp and ceremony was something he was not about to put up with.

"Dearg!" the Ice Guardian announced primly, failing to notice the man's curling lip. "I'm sure I can't be the only one fascinated to know what brings you all the way here in such a fashion, and at such an hour—"

"Be quiet, Cyril… Please." Dearg caught himself just in time.

Cyril sat back sharply, but he appeared more curious than affronted at the human's failure to observe niceties. Dearg shrugged painfully, and Ricard stepped forward smartly to remove the heavy claymore from his back. As the great sword's weight was removed, Dearg stood a little straighter. Ignoring the chair set out for him, he walked to the edge of the table and planted his two fists down on the stone, glaring at the four dragons across from him. His ragged appearance and baggy eyes alone would have been enough to maintain the silence by now.

"I know my people are partly to blame," he began, enunciating his words carefully, "for the deaths of many of Warfang's finest guards. But would any of you like to explain to me why my men and I were almost denied entry to the city by some half-wit who fancied himself a sworn defender of dragonkind?"

There were several seconds of confused silence as the Guardians exchanged looks. Fernus raised an eyeridge at the silently fuming man. "We were informed that you ran into some difficulty at the gate. The dragon in question will be reprimanded, but surely that's not what you came here to ask us ab—"

Dearg snorted, staring in disgust at the fire dragon. His vision swam for a few seconds at the abrupt turn of his head, but he steadied himself on the table.

"Of course it's not what I came here for!" he exploded. "The real reason I'm here is to find out from you why three of my people have been abducted and killed by dragons in the last month! Not just three people; two young boys and a mother of children! Plucked from their homes and loved ones and killed! _That_ is why I am here!"

He missed the explosions of protest from Cyril and the shock that registered on even Terrador's stoic face as the room blurred for a second time. His other guard, Jorgen, stepped in and lowered him onto the chair. He didn't have the will to argue. Terrador's low bass rumbled sharply through the fog of tiredness that was now in his ears, bringing him back to earth.

"I know you would not make an accusation like that blindly," Terrador said, lowering his head to the human's level. His expression was more serious that it had been in a long time. "But do you honestly think that the Guardians of Warfang would have anything to do with attacks on innocent settlements?"

"What do you take us for?" Cyril added, wide-eyed.

The words sent waves of despair crashing over the human, and his face fell into his hands again. He should have known better than to expect them to know anything about rogue dragons operating far outside the city walls. Who even said they had dominion over all dragons in Avalar? There could be many lone dragons out there, dragons that simply saw his people as an appropriate source of food...

No, it didn't make sense. It had been waiting for him at his home. It knew him as the leader, as a person of importance, and it must have gotten the information from somewhere. This city was the only place it could have. The guardians waited patiently for his response.

"I don't know what I take you for at the moment," Dearg said, as evenly as he could. "But all I know is my wife and only child were almost the fourth and fifth victims of these dragons, and yes, there are more than one. They had knowledge of me, my house and my people."

He looked over at a now contrite-looking Cyril. "So I have ridden for three days straight in the hope that the Guardians would know something about it. Apparently I was wrong."

The words sent a ripple of discomfort through the dragons at the table, not least the silent Ice Guardian. Dearg fell back in his seat, his reserves of angry energy spent. They had appeared only shocked or affronted by his declaration, nothing else. There had been no shifty glances, no fumbled or practised answers. It was quite clear they had no idea of what he was talking about, and therefore his final lead was gone.

"Forgive me, Dearg," he heard Cyril say quietly. "Forgive all of us. We did not realise your own flesh and blood had come so close to death, and even then… I should not have reacted as I did. This is a serious matter, truly."

"Though the fact remains that this is certainly the first instance of such an occurrence to reach us," Volteer now spoke up. "If dragons have been making aggravating movements such as these on human settlements, they surely do not originate from Warfang. No dragons under our command have left the city in months, either willingly or under duress."

"Not outcasts, then." Dearg groaned softly. He could feel his already very loose grip on the situation growing ever more tenuous. The glowering faces of Godfrey's relatives were all too fresh in his mind, as was the knowledge that his people trusted him with their lives in this time. Even now they could be under attack, while he was away making no progress whatsoever.

"You have to understand, Terrador," he began, addressing the earth dragon who had always struck him as the unspoken leader of the group. "My people are worried, terrified for their lives. They are under attack from an enemy I promised them was no threat. If these attacks continue, and I promise you they _are_ happening, it would not take much for another Fayne to appear and rile up those already looking to defend themselves more vigorously."

Terrador nodded, his face grim. The human's anguished expression spoke the truth. An idea was forming in his head even as Dearg finished speaking.

"I promised them I would do something, Terrador. I don't believe for a second you would be behind this, but unless we move now, others might believe just that."

"I hear your concerns, Dearg, and I may have a solution." He raised his voice to make it clear he was addressing his fellow Guardians too. "I will travel with Dearg back to his homeland, and hear what his people have to say. Maybe I will discover something there that will give us a hint as to who is responsible for these attacks, while at the same time allaying their fears over Warfangian involvement."

Fernus nodded his agreement, but Cyril cut in sharply. "That's all well and good, Terrador, but what about the running of the city? If you are to leave for several days, we will need someone extra to step in to alleviate the burden on the rest of us."

"What with the recent disturbances between our own kin and the southern newcomers, it would appear Cyrus and Isis will be acquiring their positions of choice rather soon than they expected," Volteer added drolly, but with a noticeable hint of nervousness.

"Actually, no," Terrador rumbled. "I received word about a disturbance near the Academy the other day, and I think I have someone else in mind for the position. He's a little young, but he will make a good unification symbol that all dragons can come together under. You all know who I mean. Cyrus and Isis may argue, but I feel it will be the best move."

Before the other Guardians could react to his words, Dearg interrupted, suddenly looking a lot more alert. "I think your idea is a good one, Terrador, but what do you mean by 'southern newcomers'? Who are Cyrus and Isis?"

Terrador cringed inwardly. As soon as the human found out about the southerners, he would be rife with suspicion, which was the last thing they needed right now. Even worse, the miniscule tremors reaching him through the floor told him three more dragons were approaching the room, and he could only guess at who they were.

Dearg's two guards turned on a penny as the door opened. Despite being unarmed out of courtesy, Ricard and Jorgen positioned themselves at Dearg's back, facing the new arrivals. Cyrus, Isis and a third dragon froze in the doorframe, taking in the strange sight. Fernus decided to break the uncomfortable silence after a moment or two. His amiable tone gave away nothing of his own apprehension at the meeting of the two parties.

"Dearg, this is Cyrus and Isis, leaders of the southern dragons who recently arrived in Warfang from hiding. Cyrus and Isis, this is Dearg, leader of humanity in Avalar."

The dragons around the table waited with bated breath as Dearg sized up the southern leaders, practically ignoring the third member of the group who quietly stood off in the corner. They could practically hear the gears turning in his head, as all trace of his previous exhaustion seemed to be pushed to one side. After a few moments, a smile appeared on his face, and he bowed in front of the two.

"A pleasure to meet you, Cyrus and Isis," he said. "You and your dragons are new to the city, you say?"

Cyrus bowed his own head quickly; a jerky movement in comparison to his wife's graceful curtsy. His eyes looked past the human to the Guardians at the table, ignoring the question. "What is the meaning of all this, Terrador? I heard the Guardians had convened in some urgency due to some unknown matter. Why weren't we notified about this?"

Before Terrador could answer, however, Isis laid a paw on her mate's shoulder. "Calm yourself, dear, I'm sure there's an explanation. And yes," she said, now addressing Dearg. "We're new to the city. Our tribe arrived some weeks ago."

Dearg's smile looked to be struggling somewhat when Terrador intervened. Quickly, he relayed Dearg's story about the attacks on the human settlements, and why he had come to Warfang and arranged the meeting in such haste. Cyrus' expression was dark during the story, while Isis appeared horrified by the tale.

"Your young almost killed?" she said softly. "How ghastly…"

"But you say you intend to travel back with Dearg to the human lands, Terrador?" said Cyrus, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. When Terrador voiced his confirmation, a satisfied smile appeared on the ice dragon's face. "Well then, surely one of us should be raised to the position of Guardian in the meantime, to make up for your loss?"

"Actually," said Terrador, steeling himself for the worst, "there is another dragon we have in mind for the position, and he will be replacing me for the duration of the time I will be away."

The reaction was immediate, as the ice dragon's face turned puce. He took an aggressive step forward. "You can't be serious?! After us waiting weeks for a look in to how this city is run, you're going to pass the responsibility on to some whelp that isn't even part of the ruling body as it is? This is outrageous!"

Terrador growled back despite himself, a good octave deeper than the southerner. "We are the Guardians of Warfang, and it is up to us to rule the city as we see fit. Now if you're going to have a problem with that—"

"Maybe I am!"

"Might I make a suggestion?"

The two males started as Isis' cool voice cut through the air of aggro. With a soft tug of his shoulder, she once again moved her mate back to her side. Dearg and his guards, who had been following the proceedings with increasing panic, sat back with wary expressions. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"It is true we must defer to your decisions, Guardians, and we do so willingly, but surely a compromise is in order? For any future council consisting of both southerners and Warfang natives, there must be a measure of trust, surely?"

The Guardians looked at one another.

"What is it you have in mind?" Fernus said slowly.

Isis smiled. She gestured to the dragon still standing in the corner,who now walked forward into full view. He had a heavy cowl draped over his face, obscuring all but his muzzle. The dragon was undoubtedly male; a female dragon could never have had shoulders as broad or a muzzle as thick. His faded yellow scales did not retain much of their original colour, and despite his size, he walked with a pronounced limp, favouring one of his forelegs.

Isis gave him a warm smile before she addressed the Guardians again. "I am led to believe a commander of the Guard has still not been appointed in the wake of Commander Ashni's death. So in exchange for being left out of the council a while longer, we would like to put forward Carcannus here as her replacement."

The four Guardians eyed the new dragon dubiously.

"With absolutely no offense meant," Volteer hesitated, measuring his words, "previous Guard commanders have been selected based on physical prowess, combat experience and a multitude of other requirements..."

"What my friend here is trying to say," offered Cyril, looking haughtily at the lopsided Carcannus, "is that he doesn't feel your dragon will be up to the task. Nor do I, for that matter."

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the human guards before the other hushed him. Isis' calm demeanour dropped for a second as genuine shock and anger flashed across her face. She looked set to follow her mate's angry footsteps from moments earlier before she realised the dragon they had all been talking about was chuckling to himself.

The first thing noticeable about his voice was the rasp that went with it. His toothy smile was somewhat unnerving, as it was the only part of his face visible beneath his head cowl, apart from the faint shimmer of his eyes.

"Your concerns are valid ones, Cyril," Carcannus said, sounding as if he'd spent a lifetime inhaling smoke. "But you would be surprised by what I can and cannot do. My physical prowess may be somewhat lacking, but we southerners have not lost a single dragon to Dreadwing, Death Hound or any other foul creature since I took charge of our defence some months ago. As for combat experience…" His eerie grin grew wider. "Let us just say that if I were to take off this cowl, you would see your monies' worth of 'experience'."

Dearg shifted in his seat, visibly impressed by Carcannus' gall. To his own credit, Cyril did not look away from the southerner's creepy smile, but he was visibly cowed by the words. Isis herself seemed taken aback by the words, while Cyrus merely stayed silent, almost an observer at this stage.

"Well, Guardians," Isis said finally. "You have our terms. What do you say?"

The Guardians' deliberation took only moments, and was dominated by Fernus and Terrador. Cyril sighed audibly as the decision was reached, but relented to Terrador's logic. If they wanted to keep the peace, this would have to go ahead.

"Very well," said Terrador, after they had returned to their positions. "As of tomorrow morning and my departure, Carcannus is the new head of the City Guard."

Isis smiled, and beckoned her mate and Carcannus to leave. She turned back before she left, all trace of the hard diplomat gone in the wake of her usual refined air. "We can talk further at the party this evening, I'm sure?" Terrador nodded. "Excellent! We wouldn't miss it. It sounds like it will be delightful."

Dearg stood up for the fear dragoness as she left the room, for which she nodded to him. Her mate whispered furiously to her as they passed through the doorway, and some of it drifted as far as the human. "I can't believe you let them get away with that! What good is Carcannus as Guard Commander to us, when we ourselves are still left out in the cold?"

"Believe me, it was the right thing to do," Isis responded coolly. "You need to stop rushing into everything so bull-headed…"

Any other words were lost as they passed beyond his capability to hear. The Guardians now chose to file out themselves. Terrador, sensing Dearg wanted to talk to him, waited as the three other dragons left the room. Dearg dismissed his guards for some breakfast, for which they heartily thanked him. Silence fell again as the human and dragon looked at one another.

"You didn't think a group of entirely new unknown dragons was worth mentioning?" Dearg decided to begin with

Terrador exhaled, eyes following the dragons in question as they rounded a corner at the far end of the hall. "You saw what they think of us, especially Cyrus. What do you think they'd say if I asked, nay, accused them of what you described? There'd be war over it."

"War is what I'm afraid of, Terrador. I can't afford to overlook anything or anyone, especially this group of new dragons that just seems to be able to walk into any position of power they want."

Terrador sighed again. "What choice did I have? Hopefully a week will see us to your home, some clue as to who is attacking you, and me back here again. In the meantime, you should join your men for food. You look terrible."

Dearg half chuckled, half yawned.

"I'll arrange somewhere for you to catch up on your sleep. You should join us for the party tonight. You remember Levina from your previous visit?"

Dearg took a few seconds to search his memory. "The little yellow one, yes. Her mother was the commander who was killed?"

"Indeed. We're giving her a hatchday to remember. She hasn't been right since then, you see."

Dearg crossed to a nearby window and squinted up at the sky. "Very well. I'll get some sleep, and then I'll join you at this party. Gods know I won't be doing much, though. Till then, Terrador."

Terrador summoned a mole as he left to go about his business, instructing the small creature to show Dearg to his room. It was thankful that he did, because the many identical corridors would have been a challenge even if Dearg hadn't been stumbling from tiredness by this stage. He spared a moment to thank the mole before crashing out on the bed, fully clothed.

* * *

**Heavy political stuff. Everybody's favourite, right? **

**So, like I said, the next time you hear from me will probably be around my birthday, as it's the next time I'm home. xD Until then, anything you want me to see/know, leave it in the box below~ *Obligatory Riv thanks***

**Speaking of birthdays, it's Levina's hatchday up next, folks. I'll let ye mull on that. :P**

**Slán!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Greetings, friends! I'm in a bit of a bubbly mood today because this is my first ever story post as an adult! :D As of today, I'm 18, and that's kinda awesome. xD Anyway, I felt it would be suitable to save the birthday party post for today. Hope you enjoy~**

**(Actual plot development incoming, I swear!)**

* * *

**Chapter 6.**

Levina wobbled and threatened to fall over for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes. The blindfold around her eyes was proving to be a serious hindrance to her balance. A little gasp escaped her as her paw failed to meet stone, but just before she toppled over completely, she felt something, no doubt a wingtip, catch her and pull her back to her feet. She heard a dry chuckle from somewhere to her left, and reddened slightly.

"Thank you, Uncle."

Volteer chuckled again and his wing withdrew. Had it been daytime, there probably would have been enough light penetrating the blindfold to at least let her see the street, but the night was fast approaching. It was a chill winter night at that, the sun's feeble warmth having vanished when it began its descent some hours ago. The street lamps burned brightly enough that the trip was no problem for Volteer, however. He corrected her path with his wing once again as they reached a slight turn in the street. She grumbled a little under her breath.

"Can you at least give me _some_ idea of where we're going?" she said hopefully. "I mean, I like surprises, but was the blindfold necessary from all the way back in my room?"

"Not entirely," conceded Volteer with another little snigger. "But you're familiar with us elders; we have a penchant for dramatics, and are prone to bouts of over-exaggeration. Quite frankly, you should have expected something of this nature!"

"How could I have expected anything," Levina deadpanned, "when you showed up at my room and basically abducted me?"

Her attempt at a serious tone was ruined by the smile creeping onto her face at her uncle's antics, and even further by the fact she tripped yet again on a loose paving stone. Another quick save from Volteer prevented her face meeting the ground, but this time her sigh had a definite air of exasperation. She turned her head in what she believed to be her uncle's general direction.

"Just tell me we're nearly there."

She had only just spoken when she heard the snap of a door closing up ahead. She cocked her head towards the noise, but heard nothing else. The level of light around the edges of the blindfold had definitely increased. A paw flew across her chest to halt her progress.

"I do believe we've reached our destination, Levina," Volteer said. "Permit me to remove this door from your way, and you can do away with that blindfold while you're at it. Watch your step!"

As she struggled with the strip of cloth stubbornly refusing to part ways with her head, Volteer gave her one last shove through the gap in the wall. She immediately felt warmth that had been totally absent from the street outside, but that wasn't what grabbed her attention. As she was pushed through the doorway, she distinctly heard a multitude of whispers cease. She suddenly felt horribly exposed, and redoubled her efforts to get rid of the blindfold. She growled and raised a second paw to aid the first.

"Stupid…bloody…grah!"

She managed to hook a claw underneath the blasted thing and, with a quick jerk, tore it cleanly off. Levina blinked several times as light from a nearby torch momentarily blinded her. Then, as her vision cleared, her jaw dropped.

She was in the middle of a beautiful walled garden, one end of which led into a large manor house of some sort. The centre of the garden contained a splendid fountain and pool, around which were situated several flowerbeds of various sizes and colours. The braziers attached to the walls of the garden and around the flowerbeds burnt brightly enough to illuminate the entire area, including the large group of dragons that were standing watching her with huge smiles on their faces.

It was Ember who eventually broke the astonished silence, bounding up from her hiding place behind the door to beam in Levina's face. "SURPRISE!"

The ear-splitting squeal was echoed a second later by the others all around the garden, culminating in a shout that nearly blew Levina off her feet. She gaped, unable to form any words. The other guardians stood a short distance away, along with the southerners. She didn't stop to stare at them, however, as she spotted Spyro, Cynder and the rest of the gang close by, all smiling her way. A few of the little hatchlings she sometimes babysat gambolled around their ankles. When they saw her, their little faces lit up and they made a beeline straight for her. She barely registered their tinny voices as they shouted.

"Happy hatchday!"

"Happy hatchday, Levi!"

"I got you a present!"

"Me too!"

With the hatchlings' words, it suddenly dawned on her what was going on. A wordless glance to Ember and the others still watching her confirmed it, and she let out a strangled gasp. Ember's smile faltered as she saw a few tears leak from Levina's eyes, but before she could do anything about it the smaller dragoness pulled her into a fierce hug.

"You shouldn't have," she whispered into her friend's shoulder. "But thank you so much."

Ember gave a great sigh of relief as Levina broke off the hug, wiping her damp eyes with the back of a paw. Volteer rested a paw on her shoulder as he called to the other party-goers.

"There's no inherent need to remain standing on ceremony, everyone!" he announced merrily. He began shooing away the little hatchlings, despite their disappointed moans. "Levina requires a modicum of space to compose herself, but she will be around presently!"

Satisfied that Levina's tears were the positive type, her friends and the other attendees went back to their chatting. Levina turned into her uncle, giving him the best raised eyeridge she could manage in her current state.

"This was your doing, wasn't it?"

His immediate response was his trademark grin. "I had next to nothing to do with this, in actuality. This entire soiree was the brainchild of your friends, who I might add are being very patient in waiting for you over by that table. Now do away with those tears and see to them, won't you?"

Levina immediately set about wiping her eyes and muzzle again, clearing away the few tears that were still lingering, and gave her uncle her widest smile. The old dragon gave her a quick hug and shooed her on her way, eyes fondly following her as she headed across the lawn to her friends.

Ember was also watching as Levina bounded across to where Spyro, Cynder and Flame were, looking happier than she'd seen her in months. Ember could barely contain her own joy at the sight, knowing she'd had a hand in the transformation. Seeing her best friend this happy gave her a warm feeling she couldn't quite place, but it was better than any present or gift she could receive herself. Her dad had tried explaining to them before how giving to others was a great virtue. She hadn't quite understood then, and she knew Flame sure as hell didn't, but she felt now she had an idea about what he'd been on about.

As she watched Levina skip across contentedly, a paw tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to find Thu'um lingering beside her, following her gaze. His soft grin seemed to falter for a second while he looked at Levina, and an almost troubled look creased his face. Before Ember could get a good look, however, he shook his head and looked at her. That regular easy smile played about his face. The warm feeling from a few moments before intensified somewhat.

"Now that you've taken care of Levina, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink and chat for a while," Thu'um said, motioning over to a nearby table with an assortment of food and drink piled high for the party-goers. "Seeing as you were so eager to come with me in the first place."

He stuck out his tongue a little to accompany his cheeky tone. Ember's pink scales hid her slight blush at his words while she smacked him on the back of his paw. He drew the injured limb back sharply, holding it against his chest and pouting like a hatchling after being scolded by his mother. He pulled off the wounded look so well, she just had to laugh.

"Shut up, you. I don't normally do charity cases, but I decided to make an exception this time," Ember said playfully. She started over towards the refreshment table with Thu'um following close behind, still snickering from their little exchange. Ember delicately stepped through a few hatchlings that were trying to climb on each other's backs to reach the snacks on the table and grabbed a few sweet things to give them. They cheered and scarpered off, leaving the two teens alone at the table. Thu'um gestured to a large bowl of purple liquid that was emitting a fruity scent.

"You should try some of that. My parents gave a few bottles of it for the party."

Ember opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Don't ask, just try some of it. I promise, you'll enjoy it."

Ember eyed the stone bowl dubiously, but didn't argue as Thu'um grabbed a small wooden bowl from a stack nearby and placed it next to its larger counterpart. Rearing up on his hind legs, he carefully tilted the stone vessel over, letting the drink flow into the wooden one. When it was filled, he set the vessel down and offered the wooden bowl to Ember. She took a cautious lap from it and reared back at the taste. It was unlike anything she'd tried before. There was a powerful flavour to the drink, something other than the grapes that gave it the colour. Thu'um sniggered as her face scrunched up.

"I know; it's strong, right?"

"Yeah, but it's not so bad…" Ember mused, taking another sip. The second time around, she was ready for the taste. She had to admit that, despite the strong flavour, she did enjoy it. She didn't pay much attention to Thu'um throwing a glance over his shoulder, squinting at a small group of dragons on the other side of the garden. She thought she saw Spyro; his purple scales were too unique to miss.

Feeling suddenly disinterested, Ember glanced back at her half-empty bowl. Grabbing the small container in both paws, she tilted it back and drained it. She blinked a few times as a sudden dizziness hit her, but she shook it off after a moment. Only then did she notice something odd, and she frowned quizzically. Thu'um had only been talking to her a moment earlier, but now his head was bowed and his eyes tightly shut. A soft burgundy aura shone around his head, illuminating his features. Suddenly wary, Ember half-reached out a paw, pulling it back an instant before it touched the sound dragon's head.

"Thu'um?"

He appeared not to hear her. His face remained locked in a frown as if he was focusing intently on something. Across the lawn, Spyro yelped suddenly. A few heads turned his way, but Thu'um jerked sharply, hissing in pain. He shook his head a few times, burgundy glow fading, and opened his eyes. He met Ember's worried expression, and hurriedly laughed.

"Oh, sorry about that. I got a…a headache there for a second. Dunno what caused it!"

Ember smiled awkwardly herself, deciding to ignore whatever had just happened. Taking advantage of the silence, Thu'um refilled her bowl of wine. He grabbed a second while he was at it, and downed it quickly. He stumbled a little bit as he finished, but the drink appeared to have wiped away whatever had unnerved him a few moments earlier, and he affixed an awkward grin.

"So, what now?"

Ember took a large drink from her refilled bowl. The fuzzy feeling she'd shaken off a few moments ago was returning, and it was stronger this time. It was a nice feeling, though, the sort that made her just want to return Thu'um's smile. The butterflies she normally associated with talking to the sound dragon were curiously absent, and in their absence she suddenly felt a lot braver. She glanced towards a darker corner of the garden, and surprised the drake with a rather sultry smile.

"How about that 'chat'?"

* * *

"Hey look, she's coming over!" Cynder exclaimed.

Levina had indeed left Volteer and Ember behind, and was heading their way. As she neared them, she took a great leap, crashing into the tightly packed trio while simultaneously pulling them into a massive hug. All four of them fell to the grass in a tangle of limbs. Levina's laughter infected the others within seconds. Flame muffled voice spoke up from beneath.

"So you're pleased?"

Levina sniggered as she let the others get out from underneath her and dust themselves off. Then she embraced them properly, going as far as to give the two guys a peck on the cheek each. Her expression said it all.

"I can't believe you went to all this trouble," she said earnestly. "Everyone's here, and the decorations and food and presents… I just don't know what to say."

"You deserve it, Levina." Spyro smiled. "It wasn't that much trouble, either; we did have a lot of help."

"But still…" she protested feebly, waving a paw around the garden again. It just felt like too much trouble to go to for someone like her. She knew what they'd say if she said that, though, so she stayed quiet and put the thought out of her mind. Just standing there and knowing it was all for her was simply overwhelming.

Cynder jerked her head towards a table nearby with several wrapped gifts. The hatchling horde had decided to congregate there now, after somehow getting their paws on the sweet treats.

"Your presents are over there, so we can head over there if you want, or we could go around and say hello to everyone that's here?"

Levina nodded at the latter part. "Let's do that, I need to thank everyone for coming—"

"Don't forget the food!" Flame said quickly, licking his lips. "I heard Cyrus and Isis contributed a bit of wine too, seeing as you're seventeen and all. You wouldn't mind if I try a bit?"

"She'd better—_hic_—not, 'cause I've already had a—_hic_—little bit…"

A familiar glowing golden form dropped down from above, halting jerkily between the four of them. Sparx was clutching some form of miniscule goblet in his hand, procured from Ancestors-know-where, which was spilling thimblefuls of wine with every erratic movement. His eyes were slightly unfocused as he beamed at Flame.

"But sheriously, kid, you gotta try this—_hic_—shtuff."

Flame and Levina smirked at the sight of the dragonfly in such a state. Likewise, Cynder raised an amused eyeridge, voice ominous. "Sparx can't hold his drink? I'll remember that…"

Spyro gave her a reproachful look, but quickly turned his attention back to Sparx. With a skilful flick of his paw, he snatched the meandering insect out of the air, letting him sit in his paw. Sparx gave another few doleful hiccups as he focused his eyes on the blurry image of his brother.

"Sparx, listen to me," Spyro said slowly. "Go home, you're drunk."

Sparx sat up immediately at the words, pointing an indignant finger while he conjured up a sentence. "That's the shilliest thing I've heard all night. I'm—_hic_—nowhere near as think as you drunk I am."

With that, he promptly fell back in Spyro's palm, snoring loudly. With a quiet sigh, Spyro deposited him on the nearest table, pulling the edge of the tablecloth over him as a makeshift blanket. He turned back to the others, who were laughing at the undeniably cute sight of the dragonfly tucked in.

"Now that's been dealt with…" Spyro rolled his eyes. "Do you want to go around and meet everybody, Levina?"

She nodded, but frowned over Spyro's shoulder at something across the garden. "Yeah, but it might have to wait a second, I can see Terrador coming over."

The four of them turned, seeing Terrador was indeed approaching them. He was smiling, however, an unusual sight, and his voice was amiable when he began to talk.

"I'm glad to see the party seems to be to your liking so far, Levina," he remarked, earning another contented smile from the electricity dragoness. "I don't want to disrupt your celebrations in any way, but do you mind if I borrow Spyro for a time? There's something we need to discuss."

Levina looked at Spyro, who shrugged. "You guys go on ahead and meet everyone; I'll catch up after I'm done."

Purple dragon and guardian watched in silence as the group departed, heading straight over to the nearest bunch of attendees, who were parents of some of the hatchlings scurrying around. They stopped their conversation immediately when Levina arrived and welcomed her straight into their group. Snippets of laughter and congratulations floated over as Terrador turned back to Spyro, his face reset to its usual stoic state.

"Spyro, you've probably heard rumours of human visitors to the city today?"

The young dragon shook his head, startled.

"Well, it seems news does not travel as quickly as I thought. Three humans appeared at our gates this morning, and met with us guardians on a serious matter. I believe you remember one of them, at least." Terrador ended the sentence with a gesture of his paw, which Spyro followed.

A bipedal figure emerged from the house, striding purposefully across the lawn, and Spyro's eyes widened in recognition. He was far better dressed than Spyro had last seen him, and his red hair was now longer and braided, but it was undeniably Dearg. The human nodded respectfully as he came to a halt at Terrador's shoulder. "Spyro, a pleasure to meet you again."

"You too, Dearg, but if you don't mind me asking, what's going on?"

Terrador and Dearg exchanged a glance. The latter nodded while taking a surreptitious look around, as if searching for eavesdroppers.

"To be very blunt, Spyro, in the past few weeks several of Dearg's people have been attacked and killed by dragons," Terrador said, "and I have taken it upon myself to go back to his lands with him to see if I can settle things down over there, while simultaneously finding out who or whom are responsible for this."

Spyro gaped at the news, but Dearg took up the narrative immediately. "My own family were the target of the last attack, which convinced me these are not random occurrences. Unfortunately, the guardians had no knowledge of what was happening, but Terrador has promised to see what he can do."

"This also means Warfang is going to have to spend a period of time one guardian down," Terrador added. He leaned closer to Spyro. "I'm hoping to lessen the blow to the city by appointing someone in my stead while I'm gone."

Spyro's head snapped around to Dearg, who was looking at him intently. Trepidation was rising quickly in the purple dragon's chest, and he shook his head rapidly, refusing to even consider what he thought Terrador was saying.

"You can't be serious, Terrador—"

"But I am, Spyro!" Terrador said intensely, boring into him with his emerald eyes. "Word reached me of your actions last week outside the Academy, when the southerner Urgost was accused of theft by a dragon of Warfang. The balance you showed when dealing with that situation, not to mention the decisiveness and unbiased nature of your decisions, are just what we need in a guardian. We don't need someone versed in law or politics to replace me; we have that in droves with the other guardians. What we need is a dragon who can hold both communities together, who other dragons can get behind. One who will treat everyone fairly and command respect at the same time. That dragon is you."

"What!?" Spyro yelped, drawing some attention from the surrounding dragons, and a strange hiss. "But…but I'm still in school! There must be someone better for the position, Terrador, anyone! What will the southerners think?"

"It doesn't matter what they think, they've already gotten their way," Terrador said grimly. He spotted Spyro's confused look. "No matter, I can fill you in further tomorrow. Just listen to me, Spyro. This is only for a week at most, and you will have the other three guardians to advise you at all times. No-one is expecting anything major from you, just that you do your best. I appreciate the line you gave Cyrus, but like it or not, your voice does carry weight in this city. In years to come, you will almost undoubtedly end up in my position, and then you will thank me for this opportunity."

Spyro sat back on his haunches, rubbing both paws against his face. He couldn't contest the logic of Terrador's words, but the notion still seemed ludicrous; leaving a teenager with the responsibility of an entire city. If he was anything it was a warrior, not a politician. He'd faced down an unstoppable monster whose sole purpose was to destroy the world, and even now that seemed the more straightforward task. He heard Dearg speak up.

"Don't be so quick to cast off the burden of leadership, Spyro. I had never been in charge of more than a hunting party in my life before I became leader of my people last year. I was terrified of what could go wrong, instead of focusing on what I could make right. You have the support of both communities of dragons, and the other guardians to lean on. It's only going to be a week, and that'll be the end of it."

The man's words were fraught and honest, with just an undercurrent of worry at Spyro's reaction, which Spyro picked up on clearly. Dearg rubbed his hands together nervously, awaiting a response, while Terrador sat impassively. Spyro sighed, seeing no option available to him.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Dearg's shoulders sagged with relief, while Terrador let out a barely audible breath he'd been holding. Both smiled at the young dragon, who didn't quite look convinced as Dearg gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder.

"You don't know what this means to me, Spyro," Dearg said earnestly. "I promise I'll make it up to you somehow."

"You should head back to your friends now, too," Terrador added. "We've taken up enough of your time. Just be sure to keep this much to yourself for tonight, at least. I'll speak to you again in the morning before I leave, to set out your duties."

Spyro just nodded, already searching for the comfort of his friends. He spotted Levina and Cynder over by the table of presents. The two of them were surrounded by the little hatchlings, who were watching as Levina unwrapped some of the presents. His and Cynder's was the one currently in Levina's paws; he recognised the distinctive wrapping paper Cynder had picked out for it. The hatchlings cooed loudly as Levina withdrew a green and yellow knitted scarf, which blended perfectly with her scales and eyes as she threw it on. She threw her paws around Cynder, thanking her profusely. She also saw Spyro watching from across the lawn, and mouthed the same to him. He smiled in return, just as something occurred to him. Where was Flame?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a shout rang out from the far corner of the garden.

"What are you doing with my sister?!"

* * *

**What indeed...**

**Hope this was up to scratch for y'all. Being fully honest, I haven't written a thing in a fortnight, but I've told myself that during my mid-term break this week I'll sit down and write at least one whole chapter. Just a combination of tests, tests and tests has kept me from doing anything. *Mini-rant over*  
****  
Super thanks to Riv for getting this done on time, even though she didn't even know I wanted it for today. xD**

**Slán! ****  
**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello again, all!**

**Firstly I'd like to thank everyone for the birthday wishes and reviews last chapter. :) They really made my day, even more so than usual. They're what make me pull out my laptop at eleven o'clock at night after school and start writing, regardless of how tired I am. xD Which goes some way towards explaining the job I gave Riv with this chapter. I think I caused her physical pain in the editing process...**

**Hopefully it's all sorted now, though. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 7.**

The shout brought dragons from all corners of the garden rushing towards the source of the commotion. Levina's table of presents lay forgotten as the dragoness in question flitted past Spyro with her entourage of hatchlings and guests in tow, an expression of horror on her face. Spyro joined onto the tail end of the group as they passed by. A ring of dragons formed quickly around one corner of the garden, thick enough that he had to muscle his way through in order to see what was going on.

That roaring voice had sounded familiar. Flame stood ignoring the audience he had just gathered, instead focusing a look of utmost hatred on a pair of dragons currently trying to disentangle their lips from each other. Ember and Thu'um.

Both were flushed, clearly embarrassed by the manner in which they'd been found. Their eyes seemed a little glassy, and their movements as they got to their paws were definitely unsteady. Whether it was the wine or nerves, Spyro couldn't tell. None of this seemed to occur to Flame, though, who was still glaring daggers at the two. Ember matched her brother's expression, hiding her mortification with anger. Surprisingly, Thu'um was almost balking at the attention.

"Well, answer me, you southern freak!" Flame yelled, forcing Thu'um to look at him. He gouged at the ground, looking ready to start spewing fireballs at any moment. "What the hell do you think you were doing!?"

Thu'um never got a chance to open his mouth before Ember cut in, placing herself protectively in front of him. "It's none of your damn business what we were doing! Why do you always have to do this!?"

Flame's face contorted fiercely as he strode up to fill his sister's vision. "Why do you see me as the enemy? He's the one you should be looking out for! I've been following him! Don't you ever think it's odd that he disappears every single day for hours, not telling anyone where he's going, and then just reappears again without any explanation? He's using you, Ember. I don't know what for, but he is!"

Flame vehemently spat out the last line towards Thu'um, grinning vindictively as a familiar flash of fear crossed his face. Even in his inebriated state, Thu'um banished it in an instant, but Flame had seen it, and it only reinforced what he already knew. Something was wrong with the southern prince.

All this was driven from his head as a pink paw collided with his chin. He gasped in pain and shock from the blow, bringing up a paw to clutch at his aching face. Ember growled at him, moving closer to the accursed southerner as she spoke. "I can't believe you'd say such horrible things. You were the very same to Caden when he first arrived. What is it with you and other guys that you always need to show off how pathetic you are?"

The words hit him harder than any blow she could have thrown, and his paws trembled violently. His embarrassment intensified until all he was aware of was the snarling face of his sister, the deathly silent onlookers, and the bloody sound dragon. Anger took hold of him with an iron grip. He barely even registered the gasps from the crowd as he brought his paw around in a backhand that threw his sister back on her haunches, gasping. The sight of a gash across her cheek, and the knowledge that he had caused it, halted him for a moment. Thu'um's following punch caught him right under the jaw.

Flame reeled back, landing near the circle of onlookers. One or two of them reached out and tried to restrain him, but he shrugged them off with a strength he hadn't realised he had. They backed away and didn't try again. The two young dragons faced off unhindered. Thu'um's demeanour had changed in as long as it had taken for Flame to land a blow on his sister's cheek. Every trace of his normal cool had vanished, leaving a dark expression that gave the burgundy dragon a look not unlike his father. There was a pause for a moment, filled with nothing but the shouts of the adults, before they charged.

There was no attempt to use complicated moves, parries or dodges. The drakes simply collided on the grass. Flame's advantage in size landed him on top on Thu'um, and he took the opportunity to land several brutal hits to his unprotected chest and stomach. Thu'um thrashed, and his hind legs delivered a kick at point-blank range, forcing Flame off him. Thu'um was back on all fours with blinding speed, whipping his tail around in a stinging blow which forced Flame back even further.

The crowd parted hurriedly as Flame careened back through them, landing on a table stacked with dishes. There was a deafening crash as the table leg snapped, sending the crockery on a collision course with the ground. Flame hissed as several smashed over him. His flailing paws found an unbroken plate, which he swung around, connecting perfectly with the oncoming Thu'um. A strangled gasp exploded from Thu'um's mouth from the impact, which left him rolling on the ground in pain. Flame got back to his feet and charged again at his panned-out opponent. He heard his father's voice above the din for a second, both furious and terrified at once.

"Stop it, Flame! Stop it this instant!"

He paid absolutely no heed. They were wrong, all of them. Thu'um was an enemy, he was hiding something, and he was trying to steal away his sister and discredit him. He felt nothing but a savage pleasure as his shoulder smashed into the lithe dragon just as he regained his feet. The hit was a crunching one, throwing Thu'um a considerable distance. His ragged cry was cut short as he hit the ground and rolled a few times before falling still in a heap.

"Not so cocky now, are you!?" Flame barked, advancing on Thu'um's prone form.

Thu'um was taking in huge gulps of air while trying to raise himself off the grass and failing. Apart from the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he made no move as Flame put a paw on his shoulder and flipped him over onto his back.

"You think you can just come into our city and…and do what you like with my sister, just because you're some special prince? You think I haven't noticed what you've been doing, running off every day?"

Thu'um gasped again as Flame's paw slammed down on his stomach. The adults were closing in behind his back; Flame could hear them approaching, but he wasn't finished with his prey yet. He ground his paw in, savouring every moment as the sound dragon whimpered. What had the fool been trying to prove when he threw his punch? 'Don't start something you can't finish' was a lesson Caden had taught him.

"I'm going to find out about you, and what you're doing." Flame lowered his head, right beside Thu'um's ear. "Then I'm going to tell the whole of Warfang, and see you and the rest of you creeps thrown out of here once and for all. Then you'll know to stay away from me and my family."

Thu'um's eyes suddenly snapped open, grey irises glowing.

"You don't know _anything about me_!"

The last three words came out as if spoken by a hundred dragons, not one, sending an echo around the garden that drowned out all other sounds. A gout of grey energy erupted from Thu'um's mouth, catching Flame perfectly in the chest and flinging him twenty paces into one of the garden walls. He howled in pain as he collided with the brickwork, dislodging a shower of plaster that fell to the ground with him. Before he could get up, a paw landed heavily on his back, and he could tell it was a far stronger paw than he could dislodge.

"Flame…" he heard Spyro say incredulously. "What have you done?"

* * *

Thu'um whimpered as Cyril put him back on his feet, prodding his sides for any evidence of a broken bone. Satisfied there was no permanent damage done, he had a handful of red gems sent for, which were smashed and their power sent flowing into Thu'um's battered body. He took a few shaky breaths as the flow of healing energy subsided. The stabbing pains in his stomach and chest had vanished. He had never had to use those things before.

The gems hadn't healed his fatigue, though, and the amount of energy he'd used to blow Flame away had been enormous. His legs were turning to jelly, and his vision was dimming alarmingly. He swung his head side to side in a desperate attempt to find Ember in the crowd. He just wanted to be near her, just for a few moments…

All around him was confusion. Spyro had Flame pinned where he had fallen on the other side of the garden, with Volteer standing over him. The electricity guardian was spewing a stream of rebukes in Flame's face, to which he barely seemed to be listening. The hatchlings were being herded away by a group of equally horrified parents. In the tussle, the table of gifts had been knocked over and some of the neatly-wrapped presents had been trampled. Suddenly, a pink shape emerged from the crowd, headed his way. Before she got close, a deep-red paw gripped him around the waist. His heart sank as the bile in his throat rose.

"Now that you've stopped that lunatic child, we're leaving, Terrador!" Thu'um heard his mother say shrilly. "If random attacks and insane conspiracies are what we're to expect when we go outside, maybe it's just as well one of our own controls the Guard!"

"We'll speak to you again in the morning before you leave, assuming you can keep yourselves under control," Cyrus added stiffly.

The earth guardian's jaw bunched, but he didn't reply with anything other than a curt nod. As Thu'um was hurried out the gate ahead of his parents, he managed to catch Ember's eye one more time. Something told him he should make some attempt at a farewell; blow a kiss and mouth something, anything. But he couldn't. His grey eyes just stayed locked with hers until he passed through the gate and lost sight of her. His mother's grip tightened on his shoulder, and he repressed the urge to shudder.

"We have a lot to talk about, young dragon."

* * *

As Volteer finally paused for breath in his berating of Flame, Cyril grabbed the unrepentant fire dragon by the shoulder and hoisted him roughly to his feet. He was frogmarched towards the house, flanked on either side by the two guardians. Fernus silently fell in behind them as they neared the house, and for the first time Flame's defiant expression wobbled somewhat. Then the four of them passed through the doorway and vanished from sight.

Spyro became aware of soft footsteps behind him. Dearg and his men were looking in wide-eyed amazement at the devastation that had been wrought on the garden. Spyro and the girls followed their gazes. A couple of the immaculate flowerbeds had been churned up, sending soil and flower heads in all directions. The tables of cutlery and presents had been overturned and, in the case of the one Flame had landed on, splintered. Streamers, food and gifts lay abandoned everywhere.

"What the hell just happened?" Dearg said in disbelief.

"I have no idea," Spyro answered numbly.

A few raised voices echoed from inside, but otherwise it was deadly quiet. Jorgen tapped Dearg on the shoulder and whispered a few words into his ear. The big man cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well…seeing as the party seems to have ended, we'll take our leave. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, if that's alright with you?"

It took Spyro a moment to realise the human was actually asking for his permission to leave. He snapped out of his reverie, tearing himself away from the ruined garden. "Of course, it's no problem. See you in the morning, Dearg."

The three men bowed and left quickly, the two guards muttering amongst themselves as they passed beyond the gate. Spyro went back to staring glumly at the ground. Cynder padded over beside him and wrapped a wing around his back, laying her head on his shoulder in silence. A shattering sound caught their attention. Ember had flung a plate viciously towards its broken brethren, sending pieces of ceramic flying in all directions. She glared at the pile of broken plates as tears began to leak from her eyes. Then she sank to the ground, burying her face in her paws.

"What was he thinking?" she sobbed, muffled by the grass. "All our work and it's all ruined! Now Levina's going to hate us, and Thu'um's going to hate _me_—!"

"Hold on," said Cynder suddenly. "Where _is_ Levina? I haven't seen her since the fight began…"

There was no sign of the hatchday dragoness anywhere, save for a yellow and green knitted scarf lying abandoned next to a small gate at the far end of the garden. Spyro's heart sank when he saw it. Cynder quickly nipped over to retrieve it, returning to his side in moments. Together, they managed to move Ember from her spot on the ground, and the three of them set off back towards the Academy. Beneath the remains of one of the tables, a tablecloth stirred and the glowing form of Sparx emerged, blearily rubbing his eyes. The little insect took one look at the scene around him, shook his head, and ducked back into his makeshift bed. The first smatterings of rain began to fall.

* * *

Levina wasn't far from the garden when the first drops from the sky began mingling with the ones running down her face. The drops quickly became a deluge as the heavens opened with a roll of thunder. The soft splash of her paws as she ran barely reached her ears through the roaring downpour. A fork of lightning arced through the sky, eerily illuminating the deserted street she turned into. There was no design to her path; she simply let her paws carry her, all the while sobbing bitterly at the ruined party she'd left behind.

She only realised where she was when she felt herself shoving open the familiar gate to the cemetery. It made her freeze for a moment as she became aware for the first time of her heaving chest and shuddering limbs. Her whole body trembled from a cruel gust of wind that quickly robbed her of the fleeting warmth from her run. She'd covered a huge distance in her frantic dash to escape the scene back in the garden; the party had been half the city away. Now she stood silently amidst the rain at the entrance to the graveyard, suddenly not knowing what to do.

Another flash of lightning lit up the night, burning an image of the entire cemetery into her skull, and Levina started wildly. She'd seen him again; the dragon by Caden's graveside. She was sure of it.

The sight spurred her into action. She scrambled through the gateway and up the gravel path, ploughing up the chippings as she went. She blinked away the rain that threatened to blind her, searching through the darkness for the elusive figure. As she felt herself nearing the grave, a form materialised in front of her. But it wasn't the same one.

She skidded to a stop seconds before she would have run straight into Ferox's side. The muscle-bound earth dragon turned his head slowly to look down at her, rain running in rivulets down his straight-edged muzzle. She froze under his gaze, only allowing her eyes to dart about in vain search for the one she'd seen earlier. The smaller one. He had been smaller, hadn't he?

Ferox's wing sprang open from his side, stretching out over her head in a kind of makeshift canopy. The change was immediate as the rainfall ceased battering her face. She looked at him in surprise, forgetting for the moment her disappearing quarry.

"Don't get too used to it," he said quietly. "I was just about to leave anyway."

Levina cringed inwardly, the memory of their last meeting fresh in her mind. She made to reach out a paw but pulled it back sharply, covering her mouth as a weak cough racked her. Ferox's expression was almost piteous.

"No…don't," Levina mumbled. "You c-can stay if y-you want to. I'm sorry about what I s-said…"

"You were right, though." Ferox sighed, throwing a look over to the headstone. "He wouldn't want me here. He certainly wouldn't want me here disturbing you."

"No, that's not—"

The sentence hung half-finished in the air as Levina realised she couldn't truthfully finish it. Ferox grunted humourlessly. Caden wouldn't have wanted him here, she knew that. But this solemn statue in front of her didn't match the dragon Caden had as a father. Volteer's words echoed in her mind.

_He does visit…almost as frequently as you do yourself._

"I know what you're thinking."

She gave a little squeak as Ferox's growling bass sounded again. He was back looking at the statue, but his eyes seemed glassy. He was as still as the headstone in front of him, apart from his front paws, which kneaded at the gravel fitfully. His voice was measured. "I wasn't a good father. I wasn't even adequate, and it took his death and your anger to make me see that."

He swallowed quickly, not taking his eyes off the black grave marker. "I was so obsessed with making him a strong dragon that I forgot what it was to be a father. Please believe me when I say I did love him. I know I didn't show it; I know. But I was unable to protect my mate from Gaul when the time came around, and I wasn't going to make that same mistake with Caden. Better that he hate me and be able to defend himself than love me and end up like her."

He blinked rapidly. "Even in that, I failed."

There was a long silence. Ferox's gaze never wavered, but he seemed to sag a little, his ramrod posture weakening in the aftermath of his outpouring. Without thinking about it, Levina stretched out a paw, firmly this time, and laid it gently on one of his. The difference in size was almost comical; her dainty paw would barely wrap around one of his talons, while he could easily have fit one of her entire legs in his. Nevertheless, the movement drew a reaction from the earth dragon. She felt his paw quiver beneath her own, as if contemplating flight, but she held it down.

"I believe you," she breathed. "And I forgive you. I'm sure he would have, too."

Ferox's breath hitched audibly. For the first time, she was sure the water coming down his face was from his eyes, and not the subsiding rain. His paw trembled again and this time he whipped it away, using it to vigorously wipe at his muzzle while turning his face away from her. The cold trickle of rainwater hit Levina again for the first time in several minutes as his sheltering wing folded inwards. He took a few hasty steps away from her and then stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was much more like its regular self.

"I… Weren't you supposed to be at a party this evening?"

Levina drooped a little, remembering why she was here in the first place. "Yeah… It didn't go too well."

She didn't say anything else. Ferox walked on another few steps, his back still turned to her. She heard him cough gruffly.

"Ah, well… I didn't go, you see, because I didn't think you'd…exactly enjoy my company…"

He trailed off awkwardly, still intent upon examining the ground beneath his feet. He eventually threw a glance over his shoulder. "You'll catch something if you stay out here much longer. If you want to step in out of the weather for a few minutes, you know where my house is; just up the street."

He sped on quickly before she could say anything else. The darkness swallowed him up as effectively as it did her quiet incredulous thanks a moment later. The last gravelly footsteps faded away, and she was alone again. Strangely, she didn't know what to feel.

She'd come seeking comfort, and yet she'd become the comforter. The feeling of the huge paw trembling like a hatchling's beneath hers resonated up her leg still. She turned to the black headstone that had been the focal point of Ferox's grief, trying to imagine what his son would have thought had he witnessed the scene she just had. She couldn't. For a brief and horrible instant after he'd mentioned the party, she'd been sure the same strangling despair she'd felt in the garden would resurface, but it hadn't. She couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for herself after seeing Ferox.

It was if she was seeing Ferox in a whole new light. After what had just happened, a part of her desperately wished she could reverse time and tell Caden that his father _did_ love him, that there as a dragon other than her in the world that he meant something to…

She shook her head. No use going down that route.

The party seemed almost a distant bad memory at this point. It hadn't just been the fighting that had hurt her so much at the time; the circumstances of the fight had catapulted her months into the past, when Flame had challenged Caden to a fight after accusing him of acting tough for Levina's benefit. Her mum had been the one who suggested it. That was what must have subconsciously driven her back to the graveyard, seeking comfort in the silent stones that always listened patiently whenever she was lonely.

She sneezed abruptly. The frigidity of the graveyard had gone past the point where it was bearable to stay out in. Still, she intended to say something to Caden before she left.

"I meant it, you know; that I forgive him. It's just a pity you never got to say the same."

She snorted. "I'll probably forgive Flame too, the idiot. If you were here, you could knock a few lumps out of him for me and do us all a favour. Mom would agree. I don't know what she'd have made of your dad now, either. I reckon he still remembers the telling off she gave him."

Levina turned to leave. The last hour had been one of the most confusing of her life. She'd been ecstatic at the party, devastated by the fight, and then humbled by the sight of Ferox, who had a far better reason to be distraught. There was one thing she did know, though: she'd done the right thing in forgiving him. She felt that in her heart.

Another gust of wind buffeted her, and the scales on the back of her neck prickled. The feeling was familiar to her. She was being watched. The thought gave a new fire to her chilled body. Her mind ablaze with the image of the small dragon from before, she whirled around, eyes wide, fully expecting to see a shape loom out of the darkness for her.

Nothing. She turned around fully again, straining to see anything beyond ten paces of her. Still nothing. Not a single breath, the squelch of a paw in wet grass, or the clacking of gravel. She backed away, head jerking this way and that like a small bird's, and then she saw it.

Sitting atop Caden's ebony headstone was a flower where there had been no flower a moment earlier. She snatched it up immediately. A rock rose; a wild one. Her mother had taught her all the names of the plants, and she had been taken with this one—a pure, vibrant yellow like her scales. She turned the single stem over in her paw; the flower itself was visible even in the half light.

Suddenly she cast it onto the ground, feeling horribly exposed. It hadn't been there less than a minute ago when she had turned away to leave, so someone had to have put it there. She turned violently again, feeling a presence near her, but there was nothing to be seen. Even the rain had ceased. The only sounds were her ragged breaths, and the rapid thumping of her heart. Then a bird squawked, shooting skyward from behind a nearby headstone. Levina shrieked and fled, streaking through the gate with terrified speed. She looked back, just for an instant, and choked. A pair of ghostly grey eyes was following her the entire way.

* * *

**This was a tough one to do. I'm still not 100% sure about it, but that's for you guys to decide~**

**Anyway, thanks to Riv once again for some stellar work. Please review and all that jazz, and I'll be back in another week or so!**

**Slán~**


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